The Bachelor
by Fluff
Summary: Hermione's mother is pressuring her into finding a boyfriend. On a whim, she applies and is accepted into the wizard version of The Bachelor. But what happens when The Bachelor is none other than Draco Malfoy himself? Funny fic! COMPLETE!
1. Application

The Bachelor

Hermione Granger had graduated from Hogwarts six years ago. 

She was now twenty-three and lived in a medium-sized apartment in one of London's most prestigious wizard neighborhoods.

After Hogwarts, she had quickly gained a reputation as one of the smartest witches of her time and had devoted her life to science, making new discoveries and brewing new potions, all of which earned her quite a respectable sum of galleons.

All that Hermione needed to complete her ideal, perfect life was the ideal, perfect man.

This was something that _the_ Hermione Granger, greatest witch of her time, top marks at Hogwarts in both her grade and the history of Hogwarts, did not have.

Sure, she'd dated a little since she'd graduated, but with all the discoveries she'd been busy making, she really hadn't got the time to devote her all to finding boyfriends.

Hermione sat on her lovely leather couch and scowled at the letter she was holding in her hands. Leave it to her mother to complain about Hermione's lack of boyfriends. Fuming, she reread the letter.

__

Dear Hermione,

We're so glad to hear of your accomplishments! You should write to us more often; we're so proud of you! I was very glad to know that my daughter discovered all those magic things of yours and we're glad to know that you are financially very stable. 

But darling, you failed to mention any boys in your letter! I assume you are not seeing that special someone, but honey, you need to go out and find him! You're 23 years of age now, and I think that you should be looking for your soul mate and have ideas of settling down…getting married, kids…you know the deal. I was married when I was 23 I think it would be perfect if you found the same age. 

Lots of luck and love,

Mother

Curses, Hermione thought—I just had to go and send my mother a letter about my accomplishments. 

Hermione knew perfectly well where she got her energy drive from, and she'd derived it from her mother. Knowing the woman, she wouldn't leave her alone until Hermione had found the man she was in love with.

Like that was ever going to happen.

Many weeks later, Hermione received a letter. Goddamn it, she thought angrily, why did I apply…and then she consoled herself as she remembered. 

It had been _seven weeks_ since Hermione had received her mother's letter and begun the frantic boy hunt.

She'd dated eight guys in seven weeks and all of them had been Mr. Wrong escalated to a level that Hermione would have never imagined.

The first one had spit every time he talked. Hermione shuddered, remembering how she had to keep a considerable distance from him in order to avoid a saliva bath.

The second had appeared more interested in Hermione's money than anything else. Great, Hermione thought, a man gold-digger. That's what the world needs right now.

The third one hadn't appeared interested in anything but the mole that grew on his left hand. Hermione had a vague recollection of a muggle movie she'd once seen that involved moles. Big ones, too.

The fourth had talked a lot, to the extent where Hermione could not get a single word in. She had listened to the little bugger until she could recite all of his childhood friends, his pets, his cousins, his sisters, and his Chocolate Frog card collection.

The fifth had been fairly nice, but he was rather boring. And although Hermione hated to admit it, she did crave someone fairly decent looking, and he just didn't cut it.

The sixth and the seventh had been twins. First, Hermione had been introduced to the first one, and he had brought along his twin on the date. Such things did not fly for Hermione and neither of them had appeared particularly appealing.

Hermione had almost liked the eighth, until she had found out he was still dating his ex-girlfriend.

In short, Hermione was completely out of any ideas and was up to her wits' end in trying to find Mr. Right.

So on a desperate whim, she had applied to one of the wizard world's first reality TV shows, The Bachelor. It was an outright copy of the muggle show, where twenty-five women were selected to date one man, and in the end he picked a man to marry.

Hermione had been fed up with this whole deal and had applied.

Now she had a letter from them.

Using her better judgement, Hermione hoped that she had been rejected. It was the reasonable thing to do—after all, only desperate people went on these shows.

Then again, she was desperate, and what if, just what if the man on the show was Mr. Right?

She tore open the letter and began to read in heated anticipation.

__

Dear Miss Granger, 

We are delighted to inform you that you have been selected to appear on the wizard world's first season of The Bachelor!

Please pack your bags for a six-week trip and arrive at the Livingston Mansion (directions are attached to this sheet) between one p.m. and five p.m. on Saturday, August 11th. There your journey into romance will begin!

We are excited to meet you and wish you a lot of luck.

-Kathy Silver, chief executive of The Bachelor

In spite of herself, Hermione squealed. She had made it!

But then again, was that really such a good thing?

Shrugging it off, Hermione walked into her room to pack her bags for the coming Saturday. Ready or not, she had been chosen as one of the twenty-five witches on The Bachelor. 

Oh, Mother, she thought. It's all because of you that I've gotten myself into this.

A/N: Well? I'm going for something light and humorous. Hope it comes across that way. What do you think? Please review. 


	2. Arrivals

The Bachelor 2

That Saturday, Hermione cautiously approached Livingston Mansion. It was easy to recognize from miles away with its huge, sprawling estates. 

Most of all, Hermione loved the gardens. As if the beautiful sound of water flowing from the mansion's multitude of fountains wasn't enough, the gorgeous deep forest green of the different trees and bushes, not to mention the bright flowers in almost every hue, was enough to take anyone's breath away.

Hermione was thrilled.

Hmm, she mused to herself, as long as the guy isn't a total dud, I just might enjoy this.

She walked slowly to the palatial doors of the mansion, and was soon greeted by the chief executive of the show, Kathy M. Silver.

"Hello, Miss Granger," she said with a smile as Hermione approached the door. "I'm Kathy M. Silver, and I'll be giving you all the details in just a minute. The other girls are inside already."

"Am I the last one to arrive?" Hermione asked. Punctuality had always been key for her; this was highly unusual!

"Yes, but don't worry, the last one just walked in a few minutes ago." She turned to a silent man beside her. "James, please assist Miss Granger with her bags."

"I wonder what the bachelor will look like," Hermione mused to herself as she handed the bags over to James.

"Oh," Kathy Silver interjected, "He's my nephew—well, my cousin's son—a real darling. Very sweet boy. And devilishly handsome, I'm sure you will all love him. He rather likes attention," she gushed.

Hermione nodded politely, and then stepped inside.

For a second, she could not focus. The grandeur of the place was almost too much for her to bear, from the famous replicas of paintings splashed on the walls, to the huge glass chandelier in the middle, to the lovely cream leather couch in the living room upon which four giddy girls sat.

"What's your name?" One of the girls called out to her.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied. "And you?"

"Rose Hoffman, and this is Xandy Cross." Hermione looked at them both, scrutinizing their features. Rose was a tall brunette with a sharp nose and a pleasant looking disposition, whereas Xandy was just as short as Hermione, with long, wavy black hair and a mysterious air about her. In short, Xandy was gorgeous.

Hermione scanned the rest of the room and was surprised to see that she knew almost half the girls already. They were all Hogwarts graduates, and a surprising lot of them had been in her class.

"Hermione!" she heard someone shriek behind her. She turned around and was greeted by a pair of arms.

"Hello," she said, her voice muffled under Parvati's tight embrace.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Parvati demanded.

"I could say the same for you, Parv," Hermione said. Although Hermione had never really been friends with Parvati, the two respected each other and were quite good acquaintances. 

"Who else is here from Hogwarts?" Hermione asked curiously. Curses, she thought to herself, I hadn't realized that so many people would see me desperate for love.

Parvati laughed. "Well, so far I've seen Hannah Abbot, Millicent Bulstrode, Eloise Midgen, Blaise Zabini, and Lavender Brown is here too!"

Hermione laughed. "Won't you both argue as to who gets the man?" she asked.

"Well, we…that is, just Lavender and me…have made a pact that we won't get angry if one of us is picked and not the other."

Before Hermione could continue any conversations, Kathy Silver approached and told them all to get dressed for later that night.

Hermione sighed. She hated dressing up, and was in no mood to don a gown and cake her face with goop, also known to the rest of the girl population as make up. But Hermione could not stand the thought of losing, especially on TV and in front of all these Hogwarts girls, so she decided she had to. She knew perfectly well that whoever he was, the bachelor would pick his first fifteen girls purely on looks, and Hermione never lost at anything.

She consoled herself, however, before it even started. She decided that as long as she was in the top ten list, she wouldn't care if she wasn't picked.

Hannah Abbot came running up to Hermione. "What're you wearing?" she demanded.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Dress robes, I guess."

"Well, where are yours?"

Hermione walked slowly over to her trunk and pulled out a pair of burgundy dress robes. She quickly changed into them and came out. Hannah was impressed.

"Those are very pretty," she said. "How will you do your hair?"

Hermione sighed. Leave it to one of the other girls to make sure she dressed like a complete bimbo. She quickly muttered a spell that would put her hair up in a nice bun, and then another one to do her makeup, and soon she was ready.

Eloise Midgen, whose acne had cleared up although there were a few scars on her face here and there, gushed when she saw Hermione. "Oh my gosh," she exclaimed, and Hermione nearly had a epileptic fit, "you look ravishing! The bachelor is going to love you!"

Hermione nodded weakly. This kind of attention was a little much for her. After all, she was usually recognized for Most Hard-Working Witch in Science award.

The girls each piled into limos and were driven down to the other end of the estate, where apparently the bachelor was waiting.

Hermione hated to admit it, but she felt a close resemblance to butterflies in her stomach.

During the ride, in which Hermione developed a slight headache from all the squealing around her, she began to wonder about what the bachelor would look like. But she didn't have to wonder long, because before she knew it they had arrived.

Hermione waited her turn as all the other girls exited one by one to be greeted by the man. In the distance she heard a lot of giggling and "oh-my-goshes". She moaned. What had she gotten herself into? Damn Mother, she thought.

Finally she stepped out. And then nearly fainted.

No, not happening, she thought as she froze on the spot. Not happening. I want to go home. This is not happening, not happening, not happening…

"Granger?" A familiar voice asked with a smirk.

Hermione smiled faintly. "Malfoy. A pleasure," she said, extending her arm. 

He did not take it. "Likewise," he growled. 

Slightly annoyed, Hermione pulled her arm back and brushed past him to enter the party. "Never thought you'd be _so_ desperate, Granger," Malfoy called after her.

"Well look at you!" she retorted.

"Oh, no,"  he said, laughing. "I get to pick from twenty-five of you, and you can only _hope_ that you're one of them. Good luck, Granger. Although I'm not so sure of your success…in this field."

"Shut up, ferret boy," she said angrily as she entered the party.

Curses! I'm never listening to Mother again, she thought angrily. Never.

A/N: Okay, so…I really want 10 reviews for this fic, at least, so maybe some of you could really review? I want to know how I'm doing! 


	3. Adamant

The Bachelor Chapter 3

Hermione stared at her surroundings dolefully. Everyone was laughing and talking and bad-mouthing each other (whenever they were in vicinity of Draco). Every girl was trying to pull him away in search of some alone time.

Every girl except Hermione.

Hermione did not want alone time with the bastard—she wanted to go home.

She watched with contempt as Malfoy flirted shamelessly with every girl. She sat down at a table and crossed her arms, counting the minutes until Malfoy would pick his damned fifteen girls and she could go home and pretend this never happened.

But of course, Malfoy wasn't one to let it go.

He slipped into the chair next to hers with a smirk on his face. "So, Granger, are you enjoying yourself?"

She scowled deeply. "Just being in your presence is enough," she griped. "Why did you have to come talk to me?"

He laughed, causing quite a number of girls to turn around and swarm the table.

"Thanks," Hermione said, making a motion to get up so she could escape the chaos.

Draco thought a little differently. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down. Hermione was, needless to say, shocked. He was so…strong.

Who could have imagined pale, elfin Draco Malfoy of Hogwarts would ever grow, God forbid, strong?

She looked at him. He was still quite pale, but maybe not so skinny.

All in all, he was quite decent looking, especially with the blonde hair hanging in his eyes.

But he had the personality of the devil. She could not see why these girls were so crazy over him.

"Do sit down, Granger," Malfoy was saying. All the girls ooh-la-lahed.

"My pleasure," Hermione growled as she shifted lower into the seat.

"So," Malfoy said, as if conducting business, "What are your hobbies?"

Hermione paused. "I like to beat the shit out of pale, blonde-haired creatures and I like to read. And did I mention how much I love torturing certain Malfoys?"

Malfoy snickered, and so did a lot of the girls around him.

"Come on now," Hannah Abbot said, playfully. "You didn't really mean that. Draco is so sweet!"

Hermione looked at her in shock. "You were in Hufflepuff," she exclaimed. "Why are you calling this…_it_…sweet?"

A lot of the girls gasped, and Malfoy turned to her with cold grey eyes.

"Watch that mouth, Granger," he said quietly. "Two can play at this game."

Hannah Abbot broke the silence with, "Well, we've all grown up now Hermione and forgotten school differences. Maybe you could do that too."

Draco Malfoy stared at the ex-Hufflepuff appreciatively. Tick Granger off, he thought maliciously. That stupid little bitch; how dare she insult him so badly in front of all these girls?

Well, he thought. She would certainly get a taste of her own medicine.

She expected to be free in a mere two hours, and up till a moment ago, he had never considered keeping her here. After all, they did not get along, to say in the least.

But now, she would pay. Not only would he pick her, he'd pick her all the way until the fucking end, so he could bug the shit out of her. And he'd have a good time doing it.

He was completely willing to sacrifice the spot of one potential girlfriend for annoy-the-hell-out-of-Granger time.

It was going to be fun to see her expression when he handed her the last rose.

It was going to be so fun.

Hermione watched as Draco got up and all his followers left her immediately. Ah, she thought, solitude again.

Of course, she was wrong.

The minute Draco and his fan club had left, Parvati Patil slid into the seat next to hers.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Parvati," Hermione said dangerously. "I am in a very bad mood. I don't want to talk."

Parvati clucked sympathetically. "It's okay. You take things too hard. And you have to admit, Malfoy's definitely gotten some great looks, no?"

"No," Hermione growled. "Not at all. He's too pale and too tall and too muscular and…"

Parvati laughed. "You agree with me then," she snickered. "Maybe he's gotten nicer, too. I mean, You-Know-Who's dead and his father is under house-arrest for the rest of his life. He's only got his poor mum capable of doing stuff and maybe she wasn't a freaking Death Eater. Stop being so childish," Parvati chided.

Hermione shrugged. "Or maybe she was the brains behind the whole operation," she suggested rather spitefully.

Parvati looked a little hurt, and Hermione instantly felt sorry.

"Sorry, Parv," she said quickly. "Malfoy just tends to make me crazy."

"With lust, you mean?" Parvati asked innocently.

"Parvati…" Hermione warned, a dangerous edge coming to her voice.

"Only kidding!" Parvati said, laughing and getting up. "Now if you don't mind, I'm off to convince Draco that he's going to pick me…"

Hermione sighed. "You and everyone else. You know, you shouldn't even bother with that little bas—"

Hermione looked up to see that Parvati was already gone.

Suddenly Kathy M. Silver appeared in the room. Hermione realized that the M must stand for Malfoy. She shuddered. It was a little hard to believe the friendly Kathy was related to Malfoy. And she considered him a darling!

Gods. The boy must act very differently at home, Hermione thought thunderously. She realized that Kathy Silver had begun to speak and turned her attention to her.

"Girls, it's time! Draco, why don't you lead the way…"

Draco got up and walked inside to where the rose ceremony was going to take place. All the girls followed suit, Hermione bringing up the rear rather reluctantly. Well, at least she would get to go home soon. She'd convince Harry and Ron—pray they weren't watching this on TV—that she'd gone for a weekend getaway. And if they were watching, she'd tell them she was under the Imperius.

Draco was beginning his traditional little speech. "This has been a really difficult decision to make," he began. "I mean, I think I have a connection with each and every one of you."

Hermione smirked and Draco looked at her with loathing in his eyes. They both knew he was speaking bull shit.

Draco picked up the first rose tenderly and called out a name. "Blaise Zabini," he said slowly.

Blaise smiled, and walked up to Malfoy, accepted the rose, and gave him a hug.

"Lavender Brown." Lavender did the exact same thing. So did the other twelve girls that followed, which included Hannah Abbot, Parvati Patil, Millicent Bulstrode (Hermione suspected that Draco was afraid of being squashed to death), Xandy Cross, and Rose Hoffman.

Finally they were down to one last rose. On Hermione's right, Eloise Midgen was sending a small prayer up. On Hermione's left, a girl that she didn't know was biting her lip in nervousness.

Why did they care so much?

Hermione could not wait until he hurried up and called the last girl and then she would be able to go home at last.

Draco inhaled deeply. Damn, Hermione thought. He's going to do it slowly just like the muggles.

"Hermione Granger," he said finally.

Eloise Midgen burst into tears and the girl on Hermione's left bit her lip so hard that a droplet of blood appeared.

Hermione stared at him incredulously. He hadn't just called her…no, damn it, he had.

She walked up to him slowly and heard him ask the repeated question—"Will you accept this rose?"

She was quite tempted to say no and snub him and go. Right as the word was about to roll of her tongue, she had a better idea. So he wanted to torture her by keeping her here? Well, that could be arranged…provided she added a little bit of her own 'fun' ideas. In fact, this would be quite the blast, to humiliate Draco Malfoy on TV with the whole wizard world watching.

"I will," she said, and they both smirked at each other.

A/N: I am having the best time writing this! So please, reward my efforts by reviewing! I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last 2 chapters, you guys are the BEST! But please, review again…it just makes my day. I've just come back to fanfic after a 2 year break and it's great...I'm so glad you seem to be liking this story. Thanks! I love you guys!


	4. Agony!

The Bachelor Chapter 4

Hermione tossed and turned all night, but her dreams were constantly haunted by a smirking Malfoy handing her rose after rose.

In the early hours of the morning, Hermione realized that there was no way she was going to have a decent amount of sleep and resorted to staring at her ceiling and imagining she was at home, watching this on TV instead of actually being in it.

She watched her room mate, Millicent Bulstrode, sleep peacefully. Millicent was probably having dreams about Malfoy too, except they were fantasies instead of nightmares. Hermione shuddered. It was quite disturbing, really, the way all these girls lusted after him.

Around seven, Hermione arose from the bed and took a quick shower. She heard noises from the bedroom near hers and peeked in to see Lavender Brown agonizing in front of her closet. Hermione sighed as she herself pulled on an old robe. She'd brought fancier clothes, but that was before she knew that the bachelor was Malfoy. Malfoy didn't deserve nice clothes. He deserved a smock.

While she waited for breakfast, Hermione pulled out an interesting novel and read for the next hour or so, while Millicent bathed. Her concentration was broken, however, by a large sound that droned out any thought. It was Millicent's blow dryer.

Hermione marched up to Millicent and yelled, "Could you turn it down a notch, please? I'm trying to read!"

Millicent either did not hear her or pretended not to have heard. She continued to blow dry as Hermione watched, open-mouthed, until her hair had formed into tiny ringlets.

She switched the dryer off and turned to Hermione. "How do I look?" she asked.

For the first time, Hermione noticed Millicent's attire. Millicent was wearing a low-cut, baby pink, lacy, skin-tight…thing. It did not even resemble a robe.

"It's…unusual," Hermione told her. "Malfoy will be sure to remember it." Hermione nearly snickered but used great control to keep her laughter at bay.

Millicent practically glowed from what she thought was a compliment. "Really!" she said happily. "I hope I get a date with him today."

Hermione frowned as she remembered the outline of The Bachelor. Of course. Dates! She shuddered at the thought; a date with Malfoy was a torture session. Her body shook further as she remembered that one girl out of every group of girls was picked to go on an individual date. Gods, she thought unhappily, please, let my luck be a little better than that.

Breakfast was a quick affair and soon the girls were light-heartedly chatting about Malfoy's stunningly good looks. "He's so handsome," one of them swooned. Another chimed in. "He's so sexy," she said. Yet another giggled. "He's my dream man!" All the girls let out a sigh of hope and fantasy.

Hermione wanted to scream. 

Around mid-afternoon, Lavender Brown ran into their quarters shrieking like a woman in delivery. "Oh my gosh!" she screamed, and all the girls looked up from whatever they were doing, "A date box! Girls, we've got a date box!" 

Everyone abandoned everything at once, except for Hermione, who was just at this most interesting part in her book. Lavender soon put a halt to that.

"Hermione, we've got a date box! And I'm not opening it until everyone's paying attention," she said slyly. Hermione quickly put down a book before she was swarmed to death by a horde of angry girls.

A date box was really a letter that told which girls were going on the date and who got the individual date, along with many details. Lavender picked up the letter and began to read in earnest. "It's for…ooh, Parvati, Xandy, Trinity, Lauren, and Millicent!" she said excitedly. 

"Who gets the individual date?" Millicent demanded. Hermione snickered, thankful that she wasn't on the list. It would be awfully fun to imagine Millicent on an individual date with Malfoy. He'd admire her pink thing (she referred to it as "the latest in robes!"). 

"Parvati!" Lavender said happily. Parvati beamed. "All of you guys get to go to a Quidditch match with Draco," Lavender said dreamily. "Afterwards you'll all have snacks and then Parvati will go to dinner with him!"

Everyone ooh-ed for Parvati, who looked like she'd just won the Nobel Prize.

Even Hermione congratulated her friend. After all, she was excited about it, and she took the spot of at least one individual date. Hermione hoped that out of the remaining two individual dates, neither would be for her.

Soon afterwards, the girls going on the date departed, leaving ten girls behind. The girl named Rose Hoffman soon suggested a round of the ever popular waste-of-time game, also known as Truth or Dare.

"But," she squealed happily, "We'll make it truth or truth!"

"What?" someone asked.

"You'll see," Rose said, her eyes sparkling. "I'll go first. I pick Hermione."

Hermione nearly snorted. Like she had any secrets these girls would really care about. "Fine. I suppose I'll have to pick truth."

"Okay. First rule of this version of the game is, all the questions have to be about our bachelor!"

Hermione groaned. Here she was, surrounded by bubbly girls that were all obsessed with Draco Malfoy! How she hated her mother!

"My question to you is…do you really _hate_ Draco?" Rose asked innocently.

Hermione pondered the question. Did she really detest Malfoy with every fiber of her being; did she really want to beat him to a pulp and leave him to die; did she really hope that he'd be found guilty of something or the other and be sent to live in Azkaban for the rest of his life? Unfortunately, all the answers turned out to be no. Sure, she hated his guts, his attitude, but not…him. Hermione didn't hate people.

"Well," she said, trying to explain her thought process in the most accurate way possible, "I don't really _hate_ him, you see, it's mor—"

But she was suddenly cut off by a shriek from another girl. "Oh my gosh, girls!" Hannah Abbott cried. "Hermione doesn't really hate our man! It's a tactic!"

Before she knew it, Hermione was being patted on the back by the girls, who were all saying, "Wow, you're so smart, playing hard-to-get right from day one!" and "Wow, you are so shrewd!" and "That's a great tactic, Mione!"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What tactic?" she said hotly. "I swear I can't stand him! I just said I don't hate him because I don't hate anybody!"

Of course, none of the girls believed her. Hermione wanted to melt into the floor. This was going from bad to worse.

The girls did not lay off their congratulations until the other four returned from the date. "How did it go?" Blaise demanded.

Millicent smiled broadly. "He commented on my outfit!" she said. "He said it was really bright!"

Hermione, once again, expressed great self-control and did not laugh. The other girls, too, shared their special moments. Only Xandy didn't say anything. She just smiled mysteriously until someone questioned her.

"Xandy! What happened between you and Draco?" asked the girl named Trinity excitedly.

Xandy's smiled broadened. "He kissed me," she said lightly. 

All the girls gasped. "Oh my gosh!" yelled Hannah. "Really!"

"Yes. We were saying goodbye and he kissed me!"

Everyone cheered for Xandy, although Hermione noticed a lot of the girls sported frowns. Jealous, Hermione thought lightly. Already. 

Soon Parvati came home as well. "Guys," she exclaimed. "It was positively lovely! We talked about everything! And he kissed me good night," she said happily. Everyone sighed dreamily.

 The next day, another date box arrived. This time it was Blaise who intercepted it, and she screeched in a manner similar to that of Lavender. "I'm reading it, girls," she yelled, "So you better listen up!" 

All eyes were drawn to her as she read the letter. "Okay, this date is for Albany, Hannah, Hermione, Kate, and Rose!" While the other girls called grinned wildly, Hermione's face considerably dropped.

"Who got the individual date?" asked Kate worriedly. 

Hermione shut her eyes and hoped to Merlin that it wasn't her. "It's Hermione!" Blaise screamed.

Hermione sighed. She half-expected it, almost. Anything that could go wrong was going wrong.

"You will all be going to a spa with Draco!"

Hermione didn't really listen until she heard Hannah shout, "We get to see Draco in his swimming trunks! Yes!"

Only then did she realize what a day she was in for.

A/N: Gosh, I'm so excited I'm actually getting a few reviews for this fic! A special thanks to everyone who didn't give me a one-line review, I LOVE you people! That is, Sylvan Tears, Jocelyn Padoga, invisible2u, tom4eva, Raven Mizt, Morgan, Lady Jade Green, Λ__Λ, LMTran. Thank you so much. I'm sorry I'd list you all but I don't have the time; I appreciate every review so please keep them coming!


	5. Aqua

The Bachelor Chapter 5

Hermione walked back to her room in a daze. She felt like she was in a pigpen—from all the squeals that other girls were emitting. "Oh, gosh!" she heard someone shout. "Where is my yellow bikini?" 

Hermione breathed in a sigh of relief as she entered the quiet of her room. That was until she remembered what torture her day would turn out to be. Self-consciously, Hermione donned an elegant and fashionable aqua one-piece with a deep neck and sides that showed the sides of her abdomen. Although this was a little too revealing for her, there was no way she was going to show up to some pool orgy in a bikini. 

She grabbed a pair of flip-flops and an old white pool robe, put her hair up in a bun, and stepped out to wait for the rest of the girls. After waiting for about five minutes, she sighed, went back in and came out with an interesting read. 

It turned out to be a very good idea--it was a good thirty minutes before any other life showed up. It turned out to be the girl called Albany. She wore a frown on her face as she pranced across the room in her outfit.

"What do you think?" she asked Hermione, whose nose was buried deep in the book.

Hermione looked up, a little disoriented. Her mouth nearly dropped open when she saw the tiny thing that Albany wore. Half her chest was hanging out and the bottoms were much too low. Hermione gave her a wane smile and muttered, "Lovely."

Honestly, she thought angrily, he's not going to appreciate hanging out with sluts! Or maybe he would. Malfoy struck her as that type of guy.

Not long afterward, the rest of the girls were ready to go. "I am so excited," declared Hannah happily. One of the cameramen came into the room and zoomed up on Hannah's glowing face. Hannah spoke clearly. "I hope he likes my brand new bikini," Hannah said loudly. "I'm so pumped about this date!"

Hermione groaned as the cameraman made his way to her. "How do you feel about getting the individual date?" he asked slyly.

"A little disappointed," Hermione said. "I've heard that Malfoy is a little…weak with his alcohol," Hermione said, smirking. The cameraman wheezed. 

"Why are you on this show?" he probed.

Hermione shrugged. "Why not?" she answered calmly. There was no way she was going to rant to the entire wizard world about how her mother had practically _forced_ her onto the bloody show.

Finally the girls all circled around a port key (which just happened to be in the shape of an M, as Hermione noticed with disdain) and soon found themselves in one of the wizard world's top-rated spas (and obviously extremely expensive), L'Acqua.

When they arrived, Kathy Silver immediately greeted them. Hermione sighed. The lady seemed to be everywhere.

"I'm sure you are all very excited about seeing Draco!" she gushed. All the girls smiled brightly. Hermione pretended to be absorbed in the shape of her right toe.

"First we're going to set you all up with fifteen minutes alone with Draco in one of the steam rooms," Kathy explained. "Why don't you go first?" she said, pointing to a small girl who nearly jumped with joy. 

"First impressions last," she said knowingly as she went into the room that Kathy had pointed to. 

All the other girls slid into the warm water of a nearby hot tub. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to relax. At last they were free of the cameramen--who were now haunting Malfoy and the tiny girl. 

Around her, the other girls were talking about what their impressions of Malfoy were so far. "Hermione loves him," Rose said teasingly.

Hermione cracked open an eye and glared at Rose. "I don't think so," she said.

"You liar," another one said. "You're just playing hard-to-get!"

Just then the small girl stepped out of the steam room. "That's a great pore-cleanser," she said lightly, although her voice was slightly higher than what it had been before she'd gone in. "Anyway, you're next, Rose."

And so it went--through all four girls until at last it was Hermione's turn. With a look of resignation, Hermione marched up to the room and opened it. Hot steam greeted her nostrils and eyes; she couldn't see a thing.

Groping about Hermione sat down on one of the benches, expecting to feel the hard wood beneath her. Instead, she felt something soft…bouncy…oh, no, it was rather like…human flesh! 

"Granger, giving me a lap dance isn't going to get you into the next round," someone drawled. 

Hermione screamed and leapt up with a smell yelp. Unfortunately, the floor was slippery and in her haste to get up, she slid across the floor, finally banging into the opposite wall. With a small moan, she rubbed her elbow, which had jabbed into the wall.

From his corner, Malfoy snickered. "You're not doing a very good job of impressing me so far," he said lightly.

"I'm not trying to impress you," Hermione said in the loudest voice she could muster--which wasn't very loud because of the pain she was in. "Could you at least help me up?" she finally asked.

Hermione heard him sigh and move towards her. Grabbing his hand, she lifted herself up and breathlessly stared at him. "I hate you," she said.

"Oh. I rather expected a thank-you," he said with a scowl. He prowled back to his bench and Hermione determinedly sat down on the bench that was directly opposite.

"How much time do we have left?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest, a little worried.

"How should I know? And you don't need to sit like that. It's not like I can see much anyway. Not that there's anything even to see…"

Hermione huffed. "I'd come hit you if I was sure that I wouldn't fall again."

"Weakling."

A few minutes of silence passed. "So," Hermione finally said, the silence beginning to unnerve her, "What girls are you interested in so far?"

For a moment, it was quiet and Hermione was sure he wasn't going to answer. But then he spoke up. "I really don't know," he said thoughtfully. "There are too many."

Hermione smiled to herself. "Well, what about the ones here today?"

Another small pause before he said anything. "Well, I can't stand the one who looks like she's wearing nipple clamps."

Hermione snorted. "You mean Albany?"

"If that's what the wench's name is," he said. 

Hermione was pleasantly surprised. Who would have thought Malfoy would have enough taste to go for a decent girl?

The rest of the time passed by in silence, but it was rather companionable, Hermione thought. Until, of course, she remembered that tonight she'd have to see him again.

After that, the date passed by rather quickly. They all entered the hot tub, and Hermione nearly snorted as she watched the girls constantly rearrange themselves so they could be next to Malfoy. Hermione was the only sedimentary one of the lot. She sat in one of the corners with a powerful jet and let the relaxing feeling wash over her as she heard the sickly-sweet voices of the girls around her and Malfoy's deep growl of a laugh. It didn't sound very happy.

Finally the girls bade Hermione and Malfoy (well, more Malfoy) good bye and the two that were left were escorted to the poolside terrace restaurant. 

Hermione was dismayed to find out that the menu was entirely in French. As the waiter approached the table, Hermione grew more and more agitated, but she didn't want to ask Malfoy for any help. Maybe I can skip dinner, she thought, but her stomach immediately growled in protest.

"Vous desirez?" Hermione stared up at the waiter who had sneaked up on them. He looked down snottily.

"Go ahead," Hermione said to Malfoy as she racked her brain. She didn't want to look like an idiot--after all, she _never_ looked like an idiot--but she couldn't read the menu and now she couldn't understand the waiter.

To her shock, Malfoy looked at the waiter stonily and began to speak rapid French. "Je voudrais du poisson avec citron," he said.

Both the waiter and Malfoy turned to Hermione expectantly. Feeling herself going red, she decided that she would just have to ask Malfoy.

"Um, I can't speak French," she hissed at him.

A slow grin began growing on his face. He turned to the waiter and said, "Et elle voudrait le même chose." The waiter nodded, took their menus, and left.

"What did you just order me?" Hermione demanded furiously.

"The specialty of the house," he said, smirking. 

"Which would be…"

"Chicken liver and rabbit paté," he smirked.

Hermione paled considerably. "You didn't," she whispered. 

His grin was so infuriating!

Suddenly she felt a sick wave of nausea wash over her. "How could you!" she shrieked. Some people turned to look at them.

"Shut up," he said rudely. The silence grew uncomfortable as they waited (or dreaded, in Hermione's case) for their food.

Finally he broke the silence. "So, Granger, why _are_ you on the show?"

Hermione scowled at him. "I'm supposed to be looking for a serious boyfriend…or 'someone to settle down with' as my mother puts it."

"Ah. So the all-mighty Hermione Granger, woman who doesn't listen to anybody…decides to go man shopping when her mother forces her to."

In spite of herself, Hermione had to laugh. "Man shopping?" she said, her eyes nearly watering. "That's a good way to put it. So, then…why are you here?"

He shrugged. "Actually," he said after a few moments. "Same reason as you," he whispered, keeping his voice so low that the cameras wouldn't pick it up. 

Hermione, who had just taken a sip of the Merlot, coughed into the wine. Smirking, she looked at him. "I have blackmail material against you now."

"It's not like I don't have any against you."

Finally, the food arrived, steaming hot, at their table. Hermione mentally grimaced and closed her eyes. She could practically feel Malfoy's smirk boring into her as the plates were set in front of them.

When she opened her eyes, she stared down in shock at the plate in front of her.

"Malfoy!" she yelled. "This is salmon with lemon!"

"Ah," he said lightly. "So it is."

"You bastard!" she yelled. "You horrible little ferret! You had me so worried!"

He smirked. "Too bad you can't speak French, Granger. That's one thing that you can't do."

Huffing, Hermione dug into the food.

The next day the last five girls departed on their date with Malfoy, excited about going to a small Irish village. They returned, smiling happily, and one of them was squawking in delight. "Oh, my, gosh," she yelled happily. "Girls, he snogged me!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. The familiar scene was getting rather boring, really. Just then Kathy Silver walked in with a broad smile. "Girls," she said quietly. "It's time for the second rose ceremony."

An immediate silence followed the announcement, and the girls followed Kathy into the next room.

Malfoy stood there near a pile of freshly cut roses. Hermione rolled her eyes as he began the usual speech--"This has been the most difficult decision so far. All of you are wonderful women…" 

Hermione saw him sneak a glance at her and she stuck out her tongue. It was immature, she thought to herself, but he was bull shitting his way through so many women.

Malfoy picked up the first rose confidently and spoke. "Hannah," he said slowly. Hannah smiled and went up to accept the rose. Similarly, Malfoy made his way through many other girls, which, to Hermione's surprise, consisted of mainly Hogwarts graduates--Blaise, Parvati, Lavender, and Millicent among them. Finally he was down to the last rose. Albany was holding her breath, and Hermione almost felt sorry for her. She knew Malfoy wasn't about to pick the 'nipple clamp' girl, as he called her. 

Hermione's name hadn't been called and to her surprise, her heartbeat had intensified. She wanted to stay here…Malfoy had gotten her so badly at that restaurant, and he needed pay back. Big time…

After what seemed the longest pause, Malfoy quietly said, "Gran--er, Hermione."

Smirking, Hermione went up and accepted the rose, although she did back out of the customary hug. Oh, Malfoy, she thought revengefully, you have just made a big mistake. You are really in for something.

A/N: Well, to all of you that complained about the length of the chapter--this is the longest chapter I've ever made! Please be satisfied with it! Please! Okay, well I actually have something to say during the author's note for once.

First off, I want to say to all of you that said you disliked the 'muggle show'--if you haven't noticed yet, this is really a parody of it! I'm glad you all liked that! Yes, the girls are completely exaggerated!

Er, how do you all feel about me doing recommended fics? I know some awesome humorous fics out there, so tell me in your review if you'd like me to start them starting next time. I'm only going to do a few…

Okay, the French! I had to work for that- I don't speak French so I had to ask friends who take French. If you don't know what they mean-- 'Vous desirez' means, "What would you like?" and 'Je voudrais du poisson avec citron' means, "I will have the fish with lemon" and 'Et elle voudrait le même chose' means "she will have the same thing." 

One last thing. I am so close to 100 reviews! Thank you so much, reviewers! Would appreciate mucho if this was reviewed too! Also, if you want an e-mail update, leave your e-mail address in the review and tell me you want one! I'm already doing some so it's no problem! Sorry for such a long author's note. 

__


	6. Arguments

The Bachelor Chapter 6

Draco Malfoy slid comfortably into the large bed, his mind on the events of the early evening—namely, the rose ceremony.

He knew perfectly well that he had just subjected himself to much torture from family and friends at Hogwarts. First off, it was this whole bloody show. He thought angrily of Narcissa and how she'd practically forced him to apply. _Draco__, honey, what a marvelous idea this is! You're perfect for this!_ And it had come as no surprise when he had been picked—it was merely a pleasure to date twenty-five women at once. Draco had been positive that nobody was better than him for the part, and he had been right.

Then again, he hadn't really thought about the consequences of the show. 

He was more of a one-night-stand kind of guy. In fact, he'd never had a serious relationship in his whole life. And he was just too damn lazy to work his way through every girl. He'd already decided to keep Granger till almost the end—she was bloody fun to annoy, and he might as well pick Hogwarts girls because he more or less knew them. Or at least knew some fun secrets about all of them…well, except Granger. But the rest of them had quite a bit of dirt glued to them.

He shrugged off his odd feelings about everything and consoled himself…there were ten girls here. Ten girls! That was twenty boobs! He could live with this. Easily. He fell asleep dreaming of twenty dancing boobs.

Hermione lay awake, plotting revenge against Malfoy. She had to get him back, of course, but the question was…how? Embarrassing him on public television was quite easy, but it just wasn't that appealing. Well, telling the world of his animal escapades (here she smirked, thinking of ferret like abilities) wouldn't exactly be a drag, but she could surely think of something better.

Like the time she'd caught him snogging Goyle in the broom closet.

Well, he had screamed in shock and shoved Goyle's head into the wall. And he'd claimed that he had been under the impression that it was Pansy. Which was quite believable, as it had been dark. But she could just leave all of that out of the story and make it a real eye-opener. 

She smiled wickedly as she felt her eyes closing. Perhaps this trip wasn't all that bad.

The next day, Hermione was rudely awakened by a certain Lavender Brown. "Get up," she commanded. "Kathy's telling us what'll happen and stuff in ten minutes."

Hermione groaned and rolled over. "Can't you just tell me afterwards?" she said, moaning into her pillow.

"No! We won't have time to come up. Anyway, I think she's telling us who's going on the next date and such."

"Damn." Hermione rolled out of bed and stomped her way to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she emerged, wearing plain robes and her hair up in a drab bun. She liked to think she was balancing it all out from all the gold-diggers around her.

When she reached the living room, it was abuzz with hormonal activity. Girls were shrieking and squealing as usual, but Hermione couldn't see any reason for them to be.

"What's going on?" she asked Hannah Abbot, who was standing next to her. 

"Oh, Mione! You _have _to see this! Omigosh!" Hannah said, eyes sparkling. Before Hermione could ask who-what-why, Hannah thrust something into her hands.

Hermione realized that she was holding a stack of photographs. "Whose pictures are these?" she asked warily. No way in hell she was looking at something these girls were so crazy about…what if it was Malfoy naked or something?

"They're Draco's baby pictures!" Hannah exclaimed happily. "Kathy showed them to us and we've been passing them around."

Hermione turned them over to be greeted by, in fact,  a very naked three-year-old Malfoy, smiling and waving happily. In one hand he clutched a tiny broomstick and in the other a model of the snitch. In spite of herself, Hermione had to laugh. "He's adorable," she said. "What went wrong?" 

Hannah rolled her eyes. "No pretending to hate him, missy," she said matter-of-factly. "We all know it's a tactic so come off it."

Hermione ignored the comment as she sifted through Malfoy's pictures. He really had been a very, very cute kid. Too bad he had a personality to destroy any good qualities. Immediately.

Just then, Kathy Silver waltzed into the room. "How'd you girls like the pictures?" she asked, smiling widely.

"We love them!" some chorused. Hermione shook her head in amazement. They sounded like a bunch of little kids talking to Mickey Mouse or something…that was, until Hermione remembered that wizards would probably be afraid of Mickey Mouse.

"Well," Kathy continued. "Here's the plan for today."

Some of the girls were so excited that the pictures soon slid out of their hands and ended up on the floor. "Nothing's better than the real thing," one of them declared.

"There will be three dates again," Kathy explained. "And three different girls will get individual dates. Remember, he can only keep six of you after this round, so try your best!" With a small, deliberate wink, Kathy left the room.

The morning turned out to be a stink for Hermione. Today's topic of conversation was "how many he's had!" as one of the girls had shrieked.

"How many _what_ has he had?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. "Non-human experiences? One right now, but believe me, it might be two by the time I'm out of here," she finished up stonily.

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Hermione, enough with that game," she declared, as the rest of them giggled like house-elves that had had too much butterbeer. "We already know that you want him just as badly!" 

Another girl cut in. "And anyway, we're talking about how many women he's had!"

Hermione stared at her, open-mouthed. If they were all vying for him, why exactly did they _want_ to know how many girls he'd buggered?

"Kathy told us that she knows the exact number," Blaise cut in excitedly. "We're all going to guess and see whoever got the closest guess. It'll be fun, no?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

"That's your idea of a game?" Hermione asked incredulously. 

Hannah rolled her eyes. "It's a fun way to pass time, Mione," she said lightly. "Hmm…I guess maybe nine."

"Nine!" screamed another girl. "I think more like twenty! Who wouldn't want to bugger him?"

"Twenty's amateurish," cut in Millicent. "I think he's really mature. I think he's probably only had two or three."

In spite of her reluctance to the game, Hermione snorted. "Two or three?" she asked, almost hiccupping with laughter. "Oh, no. Multiply it by four or five and then you've got the number."

For the rest of the game, Millicent did not participate, as she was very busy trying to multiply two and four, then two and five, then three and four, and then three and five.

After what seemed like ages, a date box finally arrived. "Open it!" commanded Lavender, her voice low with nervousness.

"Hermione," one of the girls gushed, "You've never opened a box. You do the honors."

Hermione shrugged and moved sluggishly towards the date box. "Okay," she said dully. "It's for…Hannah, Blaise, Trinity, and Xandy." The four girls looked at each other, slightly disappointed. 

"It's the four-person date," sighed Xandy. "That means we each get less time with Draco."

"Well, at least you get time with him," Hermione said dryly, unsympathetic to the girls' woes. "And Blaise gets the individual date."

Blaise smiled wildly while the other girls looked down, biting their lips in an effort not to cry. 

"Where's the date to?" Hannah asked sullenly.

"Um…all four of you are going to the beach with him…and then Blaise will have dinner with him on a yacht."

"On a yacht!" Blaise screamed excitedly. "Oh, gosh, girls, what am I going to wear?"

Hermione noticed that the mood in the group had turned quite drastically. The girls still feigned happiness when someone else got a good date, but jealousy was slowly beginning to show its true colors.

"Why don't you wear a _tiara_," Millicent spat angrily. "Since you're acting like a princess and all."

Blaise looked shocked. "Excuse me?" she asked slowly, as if just comprehending what Millicent had said. 

"I said, why don't you just wear a tiara, since you're acting like a princess and all," Millicent explained patiently.

"Oh." Blaise stood still for almost a full minute before coming back with a retort of her own. "Well, at least I'm not _fat_." 

Hermione looked down and bit her lip in a failing effort not to laugh. The insult was priceless, really. 

Millicent gasped, along with the other eight girls following the cat fight. "You know," she said angrily. "I have had a problem with you since day one."

"Oh, my gosh," whispered Hannah from the sides. "Girl, you tell her."

Hermione had no idea what side Hannah was on but she did know that if she didn't intervene, things were going to get a little ugly.

"Stop," she commanded, but neither paid her any attention.

Blaise was staring at Millicent with daggers in her eyes. "Well, he hated your stupid outfit the other day."

"He said it was bright!"

"That's because he's too nice to tell you what he really thought."

"You bitch!"

"Oh, my, gosh. You did not just call me that," screamed Blaise. 

Millicent pulled a curler out of her hair and threw it at Blaise. It hit her squarely in the jaw. "Ouch!" yelled Blaise. Millicent smiled smugly.

Hermione had had enough of it. She quickly went to her room and came back with her wand. Pointing it at Blaise's jaw, she swiftly healed the cut, and then pointed it towards Millicent.

"Millicent," she said crossly. "Apologize, or I'll hex you." 

Millicent apparently knew about Hermione's powers with the wand, because she shuffled her feet, and looking down at the floor, apologized. "Sorry Blaise," she muttered.

"Now, Blaise, why don't you apologize," Hermione said, annoyed.

Blaise also looked down to the floor and muttered a quick apology.

All at once, the immediate silence that had filled the room dissolved, and the girls were clamoring around Hermione. "You're so brave!" one of them screeched happily. 

"You're our hero," another complimented.

"Girls, group hug!" yelled Lavender, and Hermione began to feel rather claustrophobic as the girls surrounded her, their arms outstretched.

Nevertheless, they _were_ beginning to grow on her.

A/N: A massive thanks to all reviewers! I really appreciate it! 

Recommended fics:

A Post Hogwarts Affair by burgundyred. It's light hearted and very interesting; awesome plot-line. 

Arithmetic Love by Bloaty Kitsune. It's just started out so I can't say too much, but it's got some really funny bits!

The Hijacking of Hermione Granger by Plastraa. I love the plot-line, and it's funny!

Well that's it for this time! I've got a few more next time…hehe, I love burgundyred, I might give you a few more of her fics! And I have some others I really like too. Which I will tell you next time. Reviews would be massively appreciated! Thanks!


	7. Actually

The Bachelor Chapter 7

Hermione watched with some interest as Blaise came back from her date and the other girls positively radiated jealousy. "Well, how was it?" Hannah asked coolly.

"It was _perfect_," Blaise gushed, smiling broadly. "And check this out." She held up a glowing ruby necklace, which Hermione had to admit was very nice. "He has the best taste in jewelry, don't you think?" Blaise asked nonchalantly. Hermione rolled her eyes. Blaise was just asking for trouble.

"Well, when do you think the next date box will arrive?" she interrupted, just in case another fight broke out among the Malfoy-crazy girls.

"Tomorrow morning," Lavender declared. "Hope I get the individual date."

Hermione heard muttering all over the room, protesting this last statement. 

Suddenly Millicent spoke up. "Girls, how should we pass the time till tomorrow?" she wondered.

"By sleeping, of course," Hermione snapped as she got up to go to bed. 

"Oh, sit back down, Hermione," chided Parvati playfully. "I know just the thing."

Even Rose, who had been busy painting her toenails ("florescent fuchsia!" she called it happily) looked up, eyes sparkling with excitement when she heard Parvati's plan.

Hermione, however, was non-supportive. "No. Bloody. Way."

"Yes! Oh, come on, Hermione," pleaded Hannah. "You are so secretive and since we've been your roommates for like, forever, can you please, please, please tell us?"

"We need to know something about you," cut in another girl.

Hermione suddenly realized that she was trapped. There were girls on every side of her, girls demanding to know her personal life thanks to Parvati's smashing idea of "finding out more about Hermione's love life". Why they liked to pick on her, Hermione didn't know. Was it just too much to ask to be able to read a blasted book in peace? Or maybe sleep, however odd it was for these girls to sleep at eleven-thirty?

She sighed. There was no way out. She could either tell them the truth and have them laugh at every blunder she'd made, or she could lie fantastically and have them spread stories. Either way, the options were far less than appealing.

"Okay," she said in defeat. "What do you want to know?"

"Hmm, I'll start," Hannah said with a wicked looking grin. "How many boyfriends have you had?"

Hermione felt herself tinge pink. "Um," she said intelligently. "Er…what do you count as a 'boyfriend'?" Maybe they'd let her include Harry. After all, he had been a boy…and a friend.

"Someone who you can share every detail with…" began Lavender.

"Someone who whispers sweet nothings in your ear…"

"Someone who confides in you…"

"Someone you can kiss at any mo—"

Hermione had had enough. "None," she growled angrily. "None. None. Laugh all you want. I've got my science. It keeps my feet on the ground so I don't get swept away by stupid romantic fantasies!"

Hermione stormed out of the room, slamming the door noisily behind her. She nearly smirked when she saw the flabbergasted girls, their expressions frozen in time, but she could not stand it anymore. How dare they taunt her with all this 'sweet nothings' rot when they knew perfectly well that the only thing she'd ever come close to marrying was her book bag?

It was the whole reason her mother had sent her on this blasted show, and for a second, she'd actually believed that just maybe she'd find Mr. Right. Well, the Mr. Right dreams could just fly out the window, because the only man here was Malfoy. Enough said.

Hermione had a restless night, haunted by nightmares of an old maid, unmarried, who kept staring at all the awards she'd won in her youth…Hermione woke up screaming. The woman had been a carbon copy of Hermione except for the odd wrinkles all over her body.

"What's wrong?" Millicent asked groggily from the bed across.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said, feeling drained. Gods. What if she really did end up like that?

For the rest of the night, Hermione tossed and turned. The old woman's cackle kept coming back to her.

The next morning, Hermione woke early and quickly dressed, rushing down to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. Coffee had been her first love, having discovered it one night studying late for a Potions exam.

Around midday, a yelp alerted the rest of them about the arrival of a date box. Hermione nearly snorted when she saw who was holding it—a Hannah with green goop all over her face and a shoddy pink bathrobe. "Okay, girls," Hannah declared. "Gather round."

All the girls immediately dropped what they were doing. The tension in the room was high, and Hermione noticed that many of the girls sent each other death glares. "All right…this date's for Lavender, Hermione, and Millicent."

"Where's it to?" asked Lavender at the same time as Millicent, who asked "Who gets the individual date?"

"Don't break your broomsticks," Hannah said acidly. Hermione could tell she was rather jealous that she hadn't been able to go on a three-person date. "Individual date goes to Millicent, and you are all going to explore at tiny old village that's now in ruins. It's near Hogsmeade."

Millicent and Lavender made disgusted faces but Hermione could have jumped for joy. "Yes!" she exclaimed happily. "I think I learnt about this village in my Ancient Runes class, it's called Boarsmeade, isn't it? Hogsmeade's name after it, correct? Ooh, yes, I've wanted to see this since I was twelve!"

The girls gaped. Hermione was in her element. They'd never seen her this excited before. Until three, when Malfoy was coming by to pick them up, Hermione remained rather jovial, shooting everyone smiles and even wondering how she should do her hair. 

Sooner or later, Malfoy showed up and Lavender and Millicent, who'd been rather depressed, quickly brightened up and raced up to him. "Draco," Lavender said seductively. Millicent shot her a noxious look. "Baby," she cooed.

Hermione wanted to laugh. Malfoy looked like he wanted to melt into the ground. "Are you all ready to go?" he asked. Millicent and Lavender both nodded and tried to exit the door at the same time, which did not bring pleasant results. Due to Millicent's slight weight problem, the two of them were stuck in the doorway until Malfoy pulled from one side and Hermione pushed from the other. 

They traveled in a small carriage towards the village. One person could sit up front with Malfoy and two sat in the back. "Well, you can all get about thirty minutes up front with me," Malfoy said snottily. 

It started up with Lavender going to sit in the front. Luckily, there was some sort of barrier between the front and the back so neither Hermione or Millicent could see any sort of "activities". Hermione was pretty sure that things had escalated beyond 'talking' level. Millicent was not pleased at this arrangement. "Oh, merlin," she sighed. "I want to see what my baby is up to!"

"Millicent," Hermione explained patiently. "Malfoy is a player. He'll screw Lavender, but don't worry, he'll screw you too."

Millicent frowned in confusion, but suddenly the light came and she smiled. "Oh," she said slowly. "Okay, cool."

The rest of the thirty minutes passed rather slowly and soon Millicent (who had threatened Hermione with bodily harm if she didn't allow her to go up next) exchanged places with Lavender.

"So, how was it?" Hermione asked, trying to make some sort of conversation. Even if it was conversation about Malfoy.

"Lovely," Lavender said dreamily. "He's an excellent kisser. You really should try it sometime, Hermione."

Hermione tried to erase the last statement. "I thought you wanted him all for yourself?"

"Oh, yeah, that's at the end," Lavender stated airily. "But right now, every girl should be able to enjoy…mmm."

Hermione could tell that Lavender had gone off on some fantasy or the other and did not probe any further. Although the girls were not aware, there was a such thing known as "too much information".

The thirty minutes seemed to go by a little too fast for Hermione. Before she knew it, an angry looking Millicent was telling Hermione that it was her turn, even though Hermione didn't exactly deserve a turn with "my baby".

Hermione clambered up front to where Malfoy sat. He smirked at her as she took her place next to him. Neither said a word.  Hermione immediately decided that she would not be the one to break the silence. 

"So, tell me a little bit about yourself," Malfoy started.

Hermione glared at him. "Oh, stuff it, ferret."

Malfoy scowled in mock-outrage. "You get turned into a ferret _once_ and nobody drops it," he said darkly.

Hermione snorted. "You made a better ferret than a human being."

"Ouch. Granger, you can really hurt a man. Is that why you're here? Did mummy darling want her baby Granger to come and get a husband?"

Hermione had had enough. She raised her arm to slap him across his stupid pale face but he was too quick for her. Crushing her arm beneath his grip, he smirked.

"Granger, Granger, Granger," he began, his eyes gleaming maliciously.

Hermione snorted. "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. If you don't release me right now I'm crying abuse."

He dropped her arm like it was Skele-Gro. "Shut up."

"So, Malfoy," she began tartly, "have you discovered a girl here which you would love to make Mrs. Malfoy? Wouldn't it be nice to find a girl who'd sleep with the next log in order to eventually get to marry you?"

Hermione was surprised that Malfoy did not retaliate. Instead he launched into what could only be called deep thought. "They do like me, don't they," he finally said. Hermione could trace a small sliver of humor in his voice.

"That's an understatement."

"So, Granger, what do they say about me?"

Hermione was armed with a crude comment of her own liking, but suddenly an image of the old woman she could become flickered in front of her and she bit it back. "Loads of stuff," she finally managed to get out.

"As in…?" he asked, and for once the voice did not hold any contempt. "My charming personality, sumptuously excellent looks, exquisite features, han—"

"Narcissistic attitude, humongous ego, ple—"

"Whatever, Granger. Just tell me what they said."

Hermione let out a huge, phony sigh. "Well, you're right," she finally said. "They simply worship you. They worship the ground you walk on. I bet a couple of them would die to own a lock of your perfect hair."

But Malfoy wasn't really listening. His eyes were gleaming as if Christmas had come early. "You called my hair perfect!"

Hermione scowled as she realized her blunder. "Er," she said. "You heard wrong."

"Nope. My hearing is excellent. You called my hair perfect!"

"It is _not_ perfect," Hermione snapped, apprehending that with every word she only inflated his already massive ego even further. 

"You might as well give up, Granger. I'm never going to forget that."

"Lovely. I'll be forever happy to know that you'll always remember me."

"I will not. I plan on forgetting you the moment this rot is all over."

"Well you don't sound too happy to be here after all. What's this? Playboy Malfoy is sick and tired of too many women?"

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are. You want me to help you, don't you. That's why you keep bloody asking me what girl did what and who said what about you and all that. Am I right?"

Malfoy stared at her, looking livid. Hermione smirked. "Well, it's true, isn't it?" she asked, as if commenting about the weather.

Malfoy seemed to audibly swallow his anger and looked at her stonily. "Okay, Granger, truce. If you help me occasionally, telling me stuff about the girls and who's done what and all that, then I…will…"

"Will what? Will you soar through the air screaming "I'm a bloody prick who will forever worship Hermione"? Will you scre-"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Granger. I'll just be nicer to you and maybe we can continue through this thing civilly."

"Now there's a big word, Malfoy. Where'd you learn it?" Hermione asked acerbically. But it was too much. The prospect of getting through this thing without committing murder was actually a happy one, and she grinned. "All right then," she said jokingly. "We'll call it a truce. And I'll tell you dirt on the girls, then."

"Excellent."

Hermione was surprised to see that she hadn't even thought about wrapping her fingers around his throat during the entire ride. And finally, they were there! Hermione nearly fainted from the excitement of seeing the small village.

Out of nowhere, a tour guide popped out, quite literally. "Hello!" he said jovially, looking at the group—two of which looked utterly depressed, one who was maniacally happy and one who looked like he couldn't care less—"Welcome to Boarsmeade. It was once home to goblins, you know, and the interesting artifacts they left behind…"

Draco and the girls watched Hermione's face instead of listening to the tour guide rattle off about the different battles fought in Boarsmeade. Hermione looked absolutely enraptured, her breathing rapid and shallow with excitement. The three of them rolled their eyes. "Typical," Draco muttered, although it didn't really bother him that much that Granger was very into history. In fact, it was kind of nice to see such a change versus the other girls who studied the art of makeup, clothing, and accessories.

Lavender and Millicent fumed. It was so boring, and they weren't getting any time with "my baby!" declared Millicent huffily. "This is such a stupid village," Millicent said, sighing, looking directly at Draco.

He nodded uncomfortably. Truth be told, she was a tad bit terrifying. Just a tad.

The afternoon passed quickly and soon the four of them were dining in Boarsmeade's claim to fame—The Goblin Getaway, restaurant extraordinaire.

"Oooh!" Lavender exclaimed as they each breathed in the overdone decorating. "Look at that! Pictures of _goblins_!"

Hermione sighed. "Honestly, Lavender, didn't you listen to a word? The village was founded by goblins! Of course they'd have pictures of them!"

From across her, Malfoy smirked. Millicent immediately zoned in on him. "Baby!" she exclaimed happily.

Hermione snorted. Poor Malfoy, oops, poor baby.

Soon Hermione and Lavender bade the two goodbye, and Hermione had to laugh when she saw the trace of fear on Malfoy's face. Oh, was he in for a night.

Predictably, the girls clamored around for details when Lavender and Hermione got home. "How'd it go?" one demanded.

Lavender smiled. "Oh, it was _so_ great. The village was _so_ interesting. It was _so_ perfect."

Hermione looked at her with surprise and nearly had a fit. They tried to make each other jealous! Lavender didn't have the greatest time; in fact, she'd found it all rather boring and probably thought the best part was the trip up with Malfoy. After a while, Millicent came home as well, and although Hermione hated to admit it, she really did want to know what torture Millicent had put Malfoy through.

"Girls, it was absolutely fantastic!" Millicent said contentedly.  

"Give me, like, every single dirty detail!" Parvati yelled loudly. And so Millicent's saga began.

Of course, she'd embellished on half the things ( "he couldn't stop looking at me the entire night!") but Hermione knew some of the story was actually fact, such as "he totally listened to whatever I had to say and he was so, incredibly nice!"

Yes. Malfoy was absolutely petrified of Millicent. It was really stinking hilarious, actually. 

The next day, the last three girls went on their date to a small Scottish pub, and came back drunk and giddy but nonetheless very excited to have spent some time with the "hunk!". Time really had passed rather quickly and before Hermione knew it, it was time for the rose ceremony.

Kathy Silver waltzed in and shot the girls a competitive smile. "Well," she began happily. "Only six of you get to stay now. Four of you will be eliminated. Are you ready?"

"I am so pumped," confirmed Blaise. 

The girls traipsed after Kathy into the pretty elimination room, Hermione bringing up the rear.

Malfoy stood there with a small smirk on his face which he quickly wiped away as the girls entered. They took their positions and he began his customary speech. "This has been the most difficult decision so far. Each and every one of you mean something special to me…"

And yada yada yada. Hermione tuned him out, knowing full well that he knew exactly who he was going to pick. She wasn't nervous; she knew he'd pick her—after all, she now had the job of Advice Columnist, didn't she?

He picked up the first rose tenderly and  Hermione fought back the urge to yell "Get on with it already!". The first name he called was "Millicent, will you accept this rose?"

Millicent nearly leapt with joy. "Oh, baby!" she cried happily and ensnared him in a hug. Hermione couldn't tell if she was dreaming or not but Malfoy looked like he was choking. 

And so they went through the other four names—Hannah, Parvati, Blaise, and Lavender—before getting to the last one. Five girls were left, including Hermione, Rose and Xandy. 

Despite her confidence, Hermione was getting a tad bit jittery. What if he didn't pick her? That wouldn't be bad, she reasoned to herself. After all, she'd get away from here and resume her normal, boring life. But boring was the key word. Being with all these girls was actually…kind of…entertaining.

"Hermione." Hermione smiled and went to accept the rose, though of course she didn't give him the customary hug. The two of them looked directly into each other's eyes and Hermione could feel the spark of a challenge.

So she was staying here to help him make his decision, but that didn't mean that she could still have some fun while she was at it. After all, she still hadn't gotten him back for the incident at L'Acqua.

A/N: Well, to make up for the long time it took me to update, I gave you a very long chapter! Sorry, I had exams and was generally quite busy! But hope the long chapter was satisfactory—tell me in a review, please. They're great motivation and every time I get one I'm really pleased.

Recommended fics:

Delusion by burgundyred. Hilarious plot-line, seriously!

Examinations by luckdragon. It's just started but it's really cute!

Crazy Lunatic Experiments by ILUVRONWEASLEY. This is really crazy but quite funny!

Please, don't forget to review. Expect next update much sooner than this one, and I'm out.


	8. Assignments

The Bachelor Chapter 8 

"Mine…mine…he's going to be all mine…yummy and mine, mine, mine…" 

Hermione raised an eye at Parvati's off-key singing. "Did you make that one up?" she asked from over her copy of _100 Ways to Get Playful Revenge_.

Parvati nodded with a small gleeful smile. "Oh, you know," she said airily. "Just a bit of background singing."

"I'm sure," Hermione replied, with the same dubious expression. Was Parvati off her rocker or was this just a normal thing; this outburst of song late at night. The evening had been tiring, from the rose ceremony and onwards. The remaining however many it was now had all drunk a glass of champagne and toasted their time together. 

It was such a joke. Their time together? Malfoy toasted to breasts, the girls toasted to Malfoy, and Hermione toasted to yet another day finished. 

Lately actually Hermione had been doing a bit of thinking. It was time mummy darling re-entered the picture. She'd been the drive behind this whole, get-a-boyfriend-make-him-a-fiancé-and-give-me-babies-now thing that had happened recently. Ugh. Babies. Top scientists had many better things to do than mate like an animal and deliver babies to a hungry grandma. Well, technically, Hermione thought, wrinkling up her nose at the saying, humans were animals. 

Gods. She was such a nerd. She was _never_ going to get a guy.

Meanwhile, Hermione turned her attention back to the book. As she read through the different forms of revenge, she felt a bit shocked that people could be that desperate. There was no way in hell she was going to curse Malfoy's toilet to sing Christmas carols every time he flushed. That was just gross.

And she wasn't about to curse his toenails to grow thirteen inches (each!) either. If the toilets were gross, this thing topped the cake, so to speak. Finally, Hermione stumbled upon something that she thought Malfoy might appreciate. Yes. It was perfect for someone like him. 

Hermione tiptoed to the living room downstairs, where the rose ceremony had been held. Now it was empty and eerie, but she found exactly what she'd been looking for. Malfoy had left his wristwatch down here (he'd taken it off to dance with one of the girls; liquor didn't suit him very well), and according to the book, as long as you had access to anyone of their possessions, nearly every spell could work. She muttered a few choice words and went back upstairs, feeling much better about the whole thing. Life's work complete, she fell into a comfortable slumber.

A piercing shriek woke the entire house the next day. Hermione shot out of bed and Millicent grabbed her wand shakily. "Do you think someone's been bumped from the show?" Millicent asked worriedly.

Hermione stared at her, wondering  if she should say anything, but then decided to let it go. Whatever.

The two of them, along with many other girls, raced down to the kitchen, from where the scream seemed to have originated. However, when they all tumbled in, nobody was there. Hermione suddenly noticed a few pale strands of silky blonde hair on the floor and began to giggle like a maniac.

The girls looked at each other nervously. This was Hermione, their resident sarcastic, non-giggling, playing-hard-to-get, book-reading (how did she do it?), weird…person. And she was giggling like she'd come up with a diabolical plan to take over the world. 

Hermione couldn't stop laughing. There was a trail of blonde hair leading from the toaster (Muggle appliances had slowly but surely made their way into the wizard world, although their purpose was a tad different) to the stairs, and the stairs themselves gleamed with blonde hair, which contrasted very nicely with the brown wood. Hermione pointed and laughed until tears came out of her eyes (another nasty trait she'd inherited) and she snorted rather unceremoniously.

One of the girls made a face at her. "Hermione…you don't laugh like that. It looks bad."

Hermione sighed. "I don't need lessons, thank you," she wheezed. "It's just…just…Malfoy's hair…all over the place," she burst into laughter again. The spell had worked! It was the funniest spell. Malfoy would continue to shed hair all day, but new hair would grow immediately. The perfect spell for Malfoy.

None of the girls understood this when Hermione explained, so she just dropped it and went down to breakfast. After everyone had showered and such, and prettied up, Kathy Silver waltzed in happily. 

"Girls," she began. "No dates today."

Collective groans rose up from all around Hermione. "Oh but I wanted him to see this outfit," Hannah said, sighing.

Kathy practically sparkled. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion she enjoyed tormenting the girls. "Actually," Kathy said merrily, "Two of Draco's friends are paying us a visit."

The girls piped up. "Really?" exclaimed Blaise.

"Yes. They're going to be interviewing each of you individually and reporting the results to Draco, so he can get a better understanding of all of your…vivid personalities."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Would these friends be a certain Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle?" she asked.

Kathy nodded. "Oh, lovely! You all know them, then?"

Millicent nodded but spoke for the group. "Yeah, but not very well. We weren't sure they could speak English."

Kathy beamed. "Lovely, then. I notice that Draco has picked all his schoolmates. How sweet!"

Kathy exited and Parvati once again began to sing her off-key song. Lavender gave her a look. "No, Parvati, he is not all yours. He could be mine, or Blaise's, or Hannah's, or Millicent's, or even Hermione's. Well, probably not Hermione's (and she gave Hermione a quick flash of teeth) but you know what I mean."

The girls giggled. "So which one of us five is it going to be?" they wondered.

Hermione swallowed to keep her temper in check. They were right; she wasn't going to be The One he picked to marry or whatever, but they could at least include her...before Hermione could stop herself, she'd said the dratted words. "Remember girls? I'm playing hard-to-get?"

"Oh, so you really were!" Blaise yelled and all of the girls squealed joyfully. "Eek! Eek! Oh Hermione, you smart, wicked witch!"

Hermione wanted to smack her head against the wall. Out of all the things she could have said, she just had to say this. Blast it.

 Around three that afternoon, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle showed up. They'd grown up a bit but they still looked like taller, fatter versions of their Hogwarts selves. "Hello," they grunted. "The first one we have chosen to interview is Blaise Zabini."

Blaise got up and left the room with the two of them. 

"What kind of questions do you think they're going to ask?" Hannah asked worriedly, her Hufflepuff persona taking over. 

"Oh, probably stuff like, kids and where you want to live, and careers and all that stuff," Parvati assured her. "It'll be fine, don't break your broomsticks."

Hannah's brows furrowed but she nodded. 

Twenty-two minutes later (Lavender was timing) Blaise came back, smiling widely. "Draco picked the questions, according to Vince and Greg," she said happily. "They're really good. Oh, and did you know that Vince and Greg can read now?"

Even Hermione was amazed. Who would have thought that the two blokes would learn to read.

Vincent stuck his head in the door and summoned Lavender, who hurriedly followed him, looking a bit anxious. To whittle away the time, Hermione took out yet another book and began to read in earnest, trying to drone out the constant chattering of the girls. Topics ranged from fashion, accessorizing, Malfoy, and fat-free desserts (this was a new one, actually, and Hermione, ever the experimenter, decided to listen in).

"Have you tried those fudge bars? The green ones, they claim to have only one hundred calories per bar and no fat at all?"

"Really, they must taste _so_ terrible then."

"No! They're actually quite good, much better than when I was dieting, then I could only have those orange bat wafers…disgusting."

"Oh, those, they have no sugar at all!"

"I know, it's terrible really but they did help me shrink my dress size, which was fabulous, because I had to attend Elisa's wedding…"

"Elisa got married?! Really! Tell me all about it!"

Somewhere between Elisa's honeymoon and snarky nail polish colors, Hermione tuned out. When she tuned back in, she realized that Lavender was back and Parvati was gone. Lavender was sparkling with joy as she came back in. 

"I think that my answers must have been absolutely perfect. Vincey and Greggy seemed so excited about them! Oh, and Vincey and Greggy have the absolute best style ever! They look fantastic!"

Hermione snorted (much to the chagrin of many girls). "Vincey" and "Greggy" hadn't ceased to amaze her.

Sooner or later, it was Hermione's turn, and she followed "Vincey" out to the gardens, where they had set up a table that looked like a lemonade stand. "Hello…Her-my-own-nee," said "Greggy", looking at the sheet with confusion. Hermione smiled brightly. "Yes, that's it, sound out the syllables. How long have you been reading, Greggy dear?" she asked sarcastically.

"One year," Greggy stated proudly. Vincey nodded enthusiastically. "Draco said he had a…special question for you. Should we start with that?"

Hermione shrugged. 

"Okay. It is, 'If I let Millicent go, do you think she'd eventually let it go or would she kill me?"

Hermione laughed. "I think she'd kill both Draco and herself," she said amiably.

However, that was the only question that Hermione really appreciated out of the rest of them. Obviously, Draco was only interested in one thing.

"So where would you prefer to have sex? On the beach or in the bed?"

Hermione blushed, as she often did when the word 'sex' and 'you' were in the same sentence. "Erm…bed," she finally said, her face turning various shades of tomato. 

Vincey hooted. "I hear the beach can be a bit uncomfortable," he said crudely. 

Hermione wanted to curse the papers on which the questions were written. I'll set them on fire, she thought savagely. 

Greggy had the next question. "On an average, how many times a day would you have sex?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "I'm not going to answer that."

Greggy shrugged. "Fine, moving on. How many kids do you want?"

Hermione relaxed. Finally a question she could answer. "Well, I'm very busy with my career, so I don't really have time for the little devil—I mean, for the children. But I suppose maybe one. Maximum two."

Vincey smiled coarsely. "Well, use birth control then," he advised.

Hermione ripped the paper apart.

"Hey, no fair!" Greggy cried. "That's got all the _fun_ questions! The other sheet's all the boring ones!"

Hermione smirked. "Fire away."

Greggy rolled his eyes and struggled to read the next question. "Do you have an active career?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course I do."

Vincey managed to read the next question perfectly, without stumbling over a single syllable. "What do you like better? Owls, cats, or toads?"

"Cats, although owls are nice as well."

"Does Millicent look like a toad?" Greggy asked. "That's another pescia…I mean, special, question for you."

Hermione snorted. "Poor Millicent. Malfoy must really hate her."

Before Vincey or Greggy could say anything more, they were interrupted—quite rudely—by a man who kept losing and re-growing his hair. He looked a bit crazy as he stormed into the question session wearing just boxers.

"Hermione Granger!" he shrieked angrily as he saw her. "How could you! It's my hair! My beautiful hair!"

Hermione smiled sweetly. "It was so perfect wasn't it."

"Gah! Why'd you do it?" he asked unhappily, petting his precious hair.

"To get back at you for that stupid French stunt," she explained patiently, as if talking to a two-year-old.

"But that was weeks ago! This is my _hair_! That was your food!"

Hermione shrugged. "It'll stop tomorrow. Until then, my 'perfect haired' friend, until then."

She walked back inside, ignoring the frustrated stream of curses behind her.

A/N: Not the most eventful of chapters, I know, but I can't have every chapter be an elimination ceremony/dates because that moves too fast for my taste. Hermione finally got her revenge! Oh, and just so you know, that sex on the beach or bed question _was_ actually in the only Bachelor season I followed (Andrew and Jen, was it?). So was that uncomfortable statement. I wanted to give Crabbe and Goyle, our dear stupid friends, some limelight. And to answer your question, Some12, I am a bit like Hermione-not a girly girl, not really into make-up and such. 

Remember, I do e-mail updates, so if you want one, please leave your e-mail add in the review. Everybody go and read "Once upon a freakin' time" by Evadne! Read anything by burgundyred!  

Lastly, huge thanks to reviewers and everyone who's stuck with me. I can't believe I'm already at chapter eight. Special thanks to Sylvan Tears—really love your reviews, and you've been with me since chapter one. Anyway, thanks, and please review this chapter, everyone! (Yikes, long author's note.)


	9. Ardently

The Bachelor 9

Something was tickling Hermione's face like a bunny rabbit's ears…although it was a bit rough…a bit uncomfortable. As she rubbed open her crusty eyes she was terrified to see beautifully shaped ringlets right in front of her. Was she having a nightmare?

"My hair! Look at my hair!" Millicent chanted, shaking the ringlets. Hermione gasped. Millicent's hair was a mere finger's length distance from her face, which was quite disturbing. Hermione had yet another disturbing thought. 

"Please tell me you were not rubbing your hair against my face thirty seconds ago," Hermione said, rubbing her forehead unhappily.

"I needed you to see it," Millicent whined. "You're so honest, and I wanted to know your opinion. Dates resume today!"

Hermione groaned. "Move, Millicent," she said, sighing as she heaved herself out of bed. Ten minutes later, she was as usual impeccably dressed, wearing casually elegant lavender colored robes, which unfortunately had a deep V-neck, but Hermione was running out of extremely conservative clothes.

If only she could go back in time and warn herself to bring heaps of conservative clothes instead of the "fun and sexy" wear that she'd purchased at Willowed Witch's before she'd come.

If only she could go back and time and warn herself not to come at all.

Stumbling downstairs and trying to block out Millicent's  incessant ramblings on the different ways that her hair could curl, Hermione focused instead on the delicious looking bagels that were waiting for her. She picked up a bagel and grabbing a box of cream cheese began to lather it on rather thickly, mouth nearly watering from hunger. Just as she was about to bite into her delicious morning treat, she heard a loud voice.

"Hermione, no!" yelled Hannah, who had just stepped into the kitchen.

"No what?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Put that nasty looking thing down," Hannah said crossly. "Right now."

"But why?" Hermione was bewildered. It was just a bagel. It wasn't as if she was, heaven forbid, making a move on Draco Malfoy or anything like that.

"Cream cheese! Cream cheese! Hermione, that's _pure _cream cheese! Pure _fat_! Calories! You. Must. Not. Eat. It."

Hermione was, needless to say, a bit freaked out. "Er…" she said, setting the bagel down on the counter top as she tried to come up with a remark that would basically convey her point—she didn't give a damn if the thing was three thousand calories.

But obviously this was the wrong move. Before Hermione could say "Draco's coming!" Hannah had grabbed the delicious looking bagel and thrown it into the dustbin.

"Good girl," she told Hermione. "I knew you were just too tired to notice what you were putting in your body. Now go have some fruit."

Hermione hated fruit. Irritable and hungry, she scowled and went back upstairs. In the distance she could hear Hannah asking Millicent, "What's up with her?"

The day progressed slowly until about eleven, when a steaming hot date box arrived. Kathy had informed them that three lucky girls would get one-on-one dates this time, and the first date box would inform exactly who got it. Hermione knew it wouldn't be her and for that reason she was relieved. 

The individual date went to Millicent, who nearly squashed Hermione with her excitement. "Girls," she gasped. "Where's it to?"

"The Traveling Magical Zoo," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Thank Merlin she didn't get the date. Smelly animals, scary animals, and weird magical animals plus Malfoy didn't exactly sound like a blast, but Millicent didn't care.

"Wow. I have this pair of robes that are zebra striped. I'm going to wear them," she said, squealing as she raced up the stairs to go get changed.

Hermione nearly closed her eyes as Millicent descended the stairs a good hour later. Her robes were overwhelmingly bright, not to mention disgustingly tacky. Malfoy would have fun. In fact, Hermione reasoned, Millicent resembled a hippopotamus dressed up like a zebra. Absolutely stunning zoo attire, really.

Draco opened the door and was astonished to see a plump zebra staring right back at him. Shaking his head in disbelief, he soon realized it was not, in fact, a zebra, but Millicent Bulstrode, looking very excited for the upcoming date.

  
Draco suddenly felt sick.

"Hey, baby," Millicent cooed. Granger came up behind Millicent and held up a finger.

"Give us a moment, Malfoy. I have a little advice for Millie here."

Draco smirked as she pulled Millicent away from the door and whispered something furiously in her ear. Nevertheless, when Millicent came back to the door, she simply gave him a watery smile and motioned towards the waiting broomsticks.

Draco was impressed. That Granger—who did not look half as hideous as Millicent, and wow, was that really cleavage? Who knew Granger had any?—did know what she was doing. She made a very good advice consultant. 

Although he reminded himself, he was still cold and hard and downright _mad _at her for the awful stunt she had pulled the other day. Instinctively he ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was all there.

Millicent's smile considerably broadened when she saw this. "I love your hair, bab—I mean, Draco!" she said, giving his hand a bit of a tight squeeze. He shuddered.

"Thanks, Millicent," he replied cautiously. After a quick ride on the broomsticks, the two of them arrived at The Traveling Magical Zoo, which was well-known among wizards for its amazing and sometimes very dangerous animals.

Then again, at the moment, Draco was a bit more afraid of Millicent than he could ever be of a jarvey or a kneazle.

Speaking of dangerous beasts, Millicent had been conversing with a jarvey—a large, ferret like animal that could actually speak, but could be quite rude. Unfortunately, it was honest.

"Oh looky here," it began, and Millicent cooed with delight. Draco had to admit that it was a bit interesting. "It's a tub o' zebra lard and a thin lookin' stick."

Draco was put-out. He had worked hard to gain weight and there was no need for a stupid animal to call him a stick. Disgusting creature. "Come on, Millicent, let's go."

But he was shocked to find that Millicent had burst into tears. "I…I…don't really look like zebra lard, do I?" she sniffed. Draco felt inept and under-appreciated. Those guys that would do anything to get on the show—they weren't here right now, dealing with a sobbing Millicent.

"Um, it's okay, Millicent," Draco responded, patting her hand awkwardly. "Let's go look at some other…animals."

Millicent came home around six and everyone clamored around her for details, with the exception of Hermione, of course. However, before Millicent said a word about her date, she requested that Hermione hear it too.

Everyone had suddenly decided, after seeing Hermione's prank on Draco and her attitude towards him, that Hermione Granger was the best interpreter of Draco's feelings, based on his actions and words.

How they had come across this unearthly conclusion Hermione didn't know, but it was less hassling to just go along with their claims versus trying to convince them that it wasn't true. She'd tried, actually, but their argument had been too simple to refute.

"You're a bloody scientist," Parvati had said. "Of course you can interpret his actions."

Hermione had not exactly wanted to launch into an explanation about how all scientists had different fields of study and hers was most definitely and most emphatically not divination, so she accepted the theory and went along with it.

Now, as she was reading an interesting romance novel, which was actually a first for her, she was absolutely bombarded with girls and their questions. "Hermione, shut that silly thing—oh, my, are you actually reading _The Enemies Tryst_? It's an excellent, book, isn't it?" Parvati said in one breath.

"Er…well, it's quite interesting, really," Hermione replied, amazed that she was having a conversation with a piece of fluff _about_ a piece of fluff and actually enjoying it. Well, it had turned out to be a learning experience after all. 

"Anyhow, Millicent's back from her date and she wants you to hear all about it."

Hermione rolled her eyes mentally and looked around at the girls, all of whom seemed excessively chipper. She shuddered. Seeing them drunk would be a nightmare.

"Hermione! Tell me what my date means as a potential for Draco and me," Millicent gushed.

"Go ahead," Hermione sighed wearily. She might as well do it.

"Okay, so Draco and I went to the zoo, and we saw loads of really interesting creatures, and it was so fun. He was really polite to me and stuff but he said it was awkward and I totally agreed—I knew we were at make-out stage but I mean, it's weird to make out in front of little kids at the zoo, right? And oh, there was this really mean animal that insulted us and Draco comforted me."

Hermione stared, trying to let the information sink in. Of course she could interpret it just fine—Malfoy was far from interested in Millicent and was probably feeling awkward because he knew that the "relationship" wouldn't work—but the thing was, how was she supposed to tell Millicent without hurting her feelings? Hermione was a very caring girl, deep down inside, and although she seemed cold and uninterested in these kinds of girls, she was nice to everyone.

"Well," she began, "The animal was a jarvey, wasn't it?"

Millicent shrugged. "I don't know."

"They tend to be quite rude to everyone, so don't take it personally. I think Draco…comforting you…means, er, it means that he is a very…deep person. Yes. He can notice other people's feelings and act accordingly," Hermione finished up lamely.

None of the girls seemed to notice. "Oh, brilliant," breathed Lavender. "Absolutely brilliant."

Hermione shrugged. "What can I say? It's the science."

The next day, an individual date for dinner and dancing arrived for Hannah, who positively glowed when she heard the news. "Dancing!" she gasped. "Oh no! I didn't bring clubbing clothes!"

A massive frenzy of clothes-searching ensued, ending when Hannah decided she'd just wear something she'd brought, after all. "One of the girls might be conspiring against me," she confided to Hermione. "I can't trust any of them. They're out to get Draco for themselves, and I can so feel a connection between us. It's like…fire," she said, obviously pleased with her comparison.

Hannah departed wearing sparkly hot pink robes and a pair of strappy baby pink stilettos. "Pink's the newest black," she declared. For a few minutes after she left, Hermione tried to decipher exactly what 'pink's the newest black' meant but eventually gave up.

When she came back late at night, Hermione was already equipped with certain interpretations. If she said that Malfoy had been polite and such, Hermione would supply her with the explanation that it was his superb upbringing (ha! Hermione was only telling them what they liked!). If she said that he had been sweet and romantic, Hermione would inform her that he was probably interested in her. Easy explanations, really.

Hannah came home looking very exhausted. "We danced and danced. Hermione, tell me what it means if he danced with me the whole time—he's such an excellent dancer, really!"

Hermione was caught a bit off-guard. She hadn't prepared for 'tell me what it means if we danced together'. Umm…it was a club…you're on a date…he was doing his duty, perhaps? "It means he likes you," she finally said, too tired to think of anything more farfetched or detailed.

The next morning, considerable shrieking alerted Hermione of yet another date box. "This is the three person date box," someone told Hermione as she entered the room, wearing another "fun and sexy" outfit. Curse the stupid clerk at that stupid store that had made her buy these stupid outfits. Today it was a pretty pastel pink pair of robes, that were tight, but far from skin tight—Hermione would never be caught dead in anything that resembled Millicent's laced thing a few weeks ago. That had been giving her nightmares.

"The date's for Blaise, Hermione, and Parvati, okay? You guys are going on a magical ride through Elsor's Gardens."

"Magical ride on what?" Hermione asked nervously. Please, nothing to do with heights, she begged. Of course, her luck, as usual, was as rotten as Hippogriff remains and it turned out the ride was going to be on something equivalent of a magical hot air balloon. Quite an experience.

The three of them were picked up by Malfoy around eleven that morning. Parvati smiled coyly and didn't talk while Blaise took the other option and began conversing outrageously with him. He seemed a bit taken aback at her brazenness but nevertheless, went along with it.

"So Draco Malfoy," Blaise teased, "who'd you fall asleep dreaming of?"

Malfoy smirked. "My mother."

Only Hermione caught his joke and she snorted, which caused both Blaise and Parvati to send her withering looks. "Hermione," Parvati whispered heatedly. "How many times have we told you not to laugh like a bloody animal?"

Malfoy apparently heard her comment. "Yes, _Hermione_," he stressed, "why must you _snort_? It's so wrong. And inconceivable, in this society. You must be very careful, dah-ling," he said.

Hermione snorted again at his comment. "Yes, it is, but then again, I'm only soil on this well polished floor," she replied, suddenly feeling a disgusting and irrepressible urge to giggle. Mentally berating herself, she swallowed mid-giggle. She wasn't a giggler; why the hell were the things infesting her now?

The ride wasn't half as bad as she'd thought it be. It was awfully nice to see the beautiful gardens from an aerial view, and she was pleasantly surprised to find out that Draco did know quite a bit about botany, and throughout the whole ride she was thoroughly entertained in this whole meal of knowledge. It had been _absolutely_ fascinating to find out how exactly whomping willows had been cultivated and when the tara root had made its first appearance. 

Unfortunately, Blaise and Parvati kept breaking the spell with a, "Wow, Draco, you know so much!" and a "You're such a bloody genius, sexy!". It got quite irritating about the third time around and Hermione desperately wanted to _Silencio_ the two of them for at least a good three hours. 

The date ended quite nicely, Hermione thought. It could have been a lot worse, but she had discovered so much lovely information about plants that it had been more than tolerable. Bordering on fun, even.

Blaise and Parvati were put-out that all they had done was "discuss stupid plants"  as Blaise had said dismally and Parvati had agreed vigorously. "Most definitely," she had said, "the only chemistry going on there was between the plants and Draco. Oh, and Hermione too. She actually liked learning about the blasted things."

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, it wasn't that bad, really," she said. "Wasn't learning about that werewolf plant completely mesmerizing?"

Blaise rolled her eyes. "Um, yeah, if you're attracted to plants maybe!"  Parvati nodded.

Hermione sighed, muttered something about wasting her breath, and returned to _The Enemies Tryst_, which was, unfortunately, quite gripping. Was Pamela going to date Brendan or Henry? Hermione couldn't tell. And then that silly Susan, she was not going to get her man back! Obviously Jordan was not interested…even though Lily was a conniving little creature. Sighing, Hermione turned to the next page. What had she become?

The last individual date had gone to Lavender, and it was a trip to a water park. Lavender came back dripping and elated, and demanding an interpretation of "he bought me fish and chips. What does that mean?" Hermione bullshitted an answer and the girls bought it as usual, and then donned their fanciest robes for a five-minute ceremony that ended in two of them crying their eyes out anyway.

It was morbid, this show. Blasted thing.

The tension was disgustingly thick as Draco tenderly picked up the first rose and began the same explanation—"I've grown increasingly fond of everyone so far and I feel like I have a connection with everyone here"—and all of that silly rot that was for plain idiots to trust. Unfortunately most of the girls here were looking at him with rapturous eyes and believing every single word. "He cares," Hermione heard one of them gush. Hermione sighed. 

Draco was getting ready to call his first name. Finally he said, "Hannah." Hannah swallowed what was sure to be a squeal, Hermione knew, and went up and gave him a fierce hug. 

"Thanks," she whispered. "Thanks."

The next girl to be called was Parvati, who had a very similar reaction to Hannah. If possible, the nerve-wracking situation had just gotten worse, as there were only two spots left. Hermione was pretty sure that Draco was going to need her now more than ever, and she was about eighty-five percent sure she'd get a spot—unless Draco had already found four girls he was deeply interested in. Then again, Draco seemed rather immature—his idea of connection was probably limited to the bedroom. 

"Blaise," he finally said, and Blaise did not hesitate to conceal her joy as she leapt upward and enveloped Draco in a hug.

There was one rose left, and Hermione felt a fleeting feeling of pity for Millicent. Hermione was quite positive that Millicent would not be receiving a rose, and the poor girl really did lust after Draco in a most disturbing way.

"Hermione," Draco finally said, exhaling loudly. The cameras picked it up so that the tension would look even worse on television, and Hermione got up and accepted the rose. Their fingers brushed and Hermione was a bit surprised to find out that she hadn't grown green warts or been repulsed at his touch. 

Poor Millicent had already begun to sniffle, and each sniffle was growing louder and louder. Feeling terrible, Hermione walked up to the poor girl and gently patted her back. "Millicent," she said comfortingly, "Don't be so downcast. Draco's not worth all of that."

But evidently this approach wasn't working very well. Millicent sobs increased in volume. Hermione, desperate for something to say, searched her brain. "Oh, Millicent, seriously. I'll have you know that Greg Goyle was sending you the snarkiest looks yesterday."

Millicent cheered up considerably.

A/N: Well, fair length chapter? Wow, thanks for the reviews, everyone. I have no idea why this fic is so popular—I never expected this kind of a reaction. Thanks! I wish I could recommend fics but I have found out that it's against the TOS. I really liked this fic The Big Cliché by The Dying Duck and I had others too but no more recommendations. I'll have to go back and delete my old ones sooner or later, too. Probably later because I procrastinate so much. Um, for those of you that asked me if there would ever be any romance, you'll just have to wait. I've laid down clues and stuff, and plus, it's pretty predictable. But no I'm not going to hurry it up because I love taking things slow. Anyway, please review! Thanks!


	10. Absolutely

The Bachelor Chapter 10

Hermione threw her stuff messily into the brown suitcase, unhappy that she had to change roommates now that Millicent was gone. She trudged down the hall with the heavy suitcase to Hannah's room. Hannah's roommate Lavender had also been eliminated, and Parvati was in a very crabby mood.

"Hey, Hermione," Hannah said, looking up from perfectly painted pink and polished nails. 

"Hello, Hannah," Hermione gasped, dragging the heavy suitcase into the room. Stupid clerk had been wrong. "Fun and sexy" wear was by no means light.

"You know, Hermione," Hannah said seriously. "There are four of us left. This is where it gets real."

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah," she grunted, finally heaving the suitcase and dropping it with a sickening plop onto her new bed. 

"It's hometown dates for the next four days."

Hermione's listening magically came back to her as Hannah said the words. "Hometown dates?"

"Yeah," Hannah said condescendingly. "Blimey, Hermione, don't you know what hometown dates are?"

Pouting because indeed this was yet another thing she didn't know, Hermione shook her head and snapped, "No. What are they?"

"Well," Hannah said, hopping off her bed and making her way over to her make-up table, even though she already had a not-so-subtle amount on, "Draco gets to visit each of our hometowns, you know."

"Hometowns?" Hermione asked weakly.

"Yes, Hermione. Where you grew up? Mine's Manchester. Where's yours?"

"Er," Hermione said intelligently as she tried to process the hefty amount of information. "London but did you say…you said he comes and visits our homes?"

"Oh, yes. You can take him round London all you want. And you can have dinner with your parents and see if they'll like him."

Hermione visibly shuddered. Draco was beginning to grow on her but what would her mum and dad say to him? How many summers had she vented about his absolutely childish pranks? Oh dear. She could picture them sitting around the table right now.

"Hermione," her mother would say cheerfully. "_Do_ introduce us to your handsome friend!"

Hermione's father would grunt unappreciatively and Draco would say, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I'm Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's father would look up suddenly from the roast beef and her mum's wrinkles would arrange themselves into a frown. "Draco Malfoy, did you say?" she'd ask Draco.

Draco would nod.

Then her mother would turn to Hermione and say, "But darling, isn't this the boy you'd complained about all through your years at that lovely boarding school of yours?"

Hermione would swallow the soggy mashed potatoes she'd been holding in her mouth to keep herself from talking during the awkward conversation. "Erm, yes. But didn't you know he was the candidate on that Bachelor show and I've actually made it to one of the last rounds."

Heavens, no.

Hannah gave Hermione an off sort of smile. "Are you all there, Hermione? You're eyes are all glazed over."

"Oh. Just thinking about good old London. Pleasant weather, isn't it?" Hermione babbled. 

Hannah shot her another look but nevertheless changed the conversation to head in a more selfish direction. "I can't wait to show Draco my favorite ice-skating rink. It's just north of our flat. Hope you have fun in London…but not too much fun. I'm going to get him, after all," she said easily, sliding out of the room to converse with the other two girls.

Hermione stared after her and frowned. The girls did view her as serious competition. Interesting. Very interesting. Shaking her head she followed Hannah out.

Parvati was looking rather dismal now that Lavender was gone. "I was hoping," she said sourly, "that Lavender would get to stay. We had so much fun discussing every aspect of Draco."

"_Every_ aspect?" piped up sex-crazed Blaise Zabini. "Oooh, tell me!"

Parvati swatted at Blaise. "Oh, shut up. You can probably describe _that_ aspect better than we can. None of us has seen him, have we?"

Hermione left the conversation. It was really getting silly and she was getting rather tired of it. She decided to take a walk in the garden. The show was quite a debacle of course, but she had been enjoying it. However, she craved a much-needed break from health-crazed, sex-crazed, and overall crazy girls.

The garden was every bit as spectacular as she'd hoped the first day she'd come around. Marble statues spewed water out in a trickling fashion creating a very peaceful environment. 

She breathed in lilac scented air as she walked around, for the first time in true peace, wearing plain old robes and boring brown flat shoes, her hair a messy thing of frizz piled unceremoniously on top of her head. Now this was life. She didn't care about looking great; comfort was absolutely key.

"Hermione," someone drawled behind her. She spun around, the frizzed hair whipping her in the face as she did so.

"Ouch," she muttered as she took in the sight in front of her. Of course the blonde that blocked her view was none other than Draco. "Hello, you," she said off-handedly, in what she hoped was a friendly-but-not-kind voice. If such a thing existed of course. She wouldn't want Draco to go and get the wrong idea, would she? 

"What are you doing down here?" he asked conversationally, strolling past her with his arms behind his back, looking like a right little professor. A professor…now, an intellectual man was one who was truly handsome. But of course, that didn't apply to Draco. 

"Could say the same to you," she replied casually, although suddenly butterflies seemed to swarm the air. Or were they just in her pitter-pattering heart? Pitter-pattering? What was she, an old woman who heaved a gigantic bosom every now and then? 

Oh, dear.

"I love botany," he said as he inspected a rhododendron with ease. "Especially these non-magical plants. They're enchanting, aren't they?"

"Hilarious," she replied, smiling at his small joke. "I was just taking a walk, getting some air…having a bagel or two," she said, pulling one out from her robes.

"A bagel?" he asked, evidently confused.

"I'm not allowed to eat bagels in there," she replied distractedly as she tore off the wrapping viciously. 

He looked at her, those pointy blonde brows raised in consideration. Hermione could almost see his mind working; wondering if she was joking or if she was actually serious. She decided to help him out just a tad little bit. "Well, er, girls these days are rather health conscious and bagels aren't healthy enough for them. Bagels with cream cheese, that is."

The corner of Draco's mouth began to twitch and it looked like he was refining an odd little smile. Bit of a difference from the ever-present smirk that could be seen on those pink lips. "Interesting," he managed. "Quite interesting."

"I thought so," Hermione replied awkwardly with a small smile. She dove into the bagel, cream cheese and all, remembering a little too late that she was behaving far from lady-like in the least, with white cream cheese splattered across her mouth and bagel crumbs down the front of her robes. 

She looked guiltily over at Draco who was alternating between looking at the different flowers and at Hermione's newfound accessories. Hurriedly she wiped her mouth, sticky residue from the cream cheese staining her hands. 

He laughed. "You're really a klutz," he teased. "Now what would Hannah say if she saw you in such a predicament?"

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "She'd pound my head into the pavement."

He was intrigued. "Is she vicious?" he asked hopefully.

It was Hermione's turn to burst out laughing, in her usual half-snort half-giggle half-uproarious laughter sort of noise. It was unique, her friends told her. She was not in the least embarrassed by it, but right now, she did _not_ want to giggle. Yet, once again, she felt this awful, awful urge to just let free and let those damn giggles come. Who bloody giggled? Fighting the urge, Hermione managed to say with a straight face, "You're a moron."

"Ah, Hermione. Never too old for those types of things," he acknowledged. "Don't worry, beaver-teeth, I'm the same way."

"Oh, shut up," she said, mock-haughtily, but what seventh-year Hermione would have Jelly Legged for, twenty-three going on twenty-four Hermione smiled and horrendously giggled at.

Draco turned to observe some violets, and Hermione ambled around the garden, sneaking looks at him every now and then and appreciating his wonderful sense of learning. Now, she really did like a man who knew his plants.

Heavens! Hit with sudden realization, Hermione stumbled towards him and muttered a sudden, "I'll see you later but I must get dressed," or something just as inane as that. She couldn't believe…oh, bloody hell, no…when in the world had she started seeing "Draco" instead of "Malfoy"? When had that happened? Why hadn't anyone told her? 

Stupid brain, she cursed. Now she was getting a little too close for comfort. Much too close, actually. She hurriedly left the garden behind her. 

Inside, Parvati was packing for the hometown date. "It's overnight," she informed Hermione gleefully.

Hermione could not take news like that at a time like this. Overnight! Overnight, did she say! Barely even mumbling a "hell!" to Parvati, Hermione stomped into her room, where Hannah was looking at a British Vogue, making comments such as, "ooh, those muggles do know their fabrics," and "my, my, Blaise, it's satiny! Perfect for lingerie, no?"

Hermione, instantly bored, wandered back out to Parvati, taking deep breaths to calm her frayed nerves. "So, what are you packing?" she asked, out of lack of anything better to do.

"Oh, a mag or two for the ride up—I'm meeting him there, we're not going to be able to go up together, unfortunately… and of course, my make-up kit, a toothbrush, hairbrush, hair pins, my new lemon v-shaped robes, and most definitely my sexiest black lingerie. It's lacy, too."

Hermione nodded, trying in her mind to figure out what in the world she was going to pack. Flannel pajamas came to mind instead of lingerie…after all, she didn't keep sexy, black, lacy, or see-through in her wardrobe. Just wasn't going to happen.

"Well, you have fun," she said warmly. "Where are you from?"

"Liverpool, actually. I'm a bit worried though. I share a flat with Padma, and what if Draco likes her better than me? After all, Padma is so much smarter. It's very depressing," Parvati sniffed, falling back into her doleful mood.

"Oh, cheer up," Hermione replied warmly. "He'll love you."

But somehow cheering up the girls and reassuring them that Draco was indeed quite fond of them wasn't as uplifting as it had been once. Somehow it had lost all of its charm and she didn't want to tell them lies. She didn't want them to think that Draco fancied any of them. 

Maybe he did, though. 

Parvati departed that afternoon before lunch, and the girls waved her off, sporting fake smiles of happiness while the second that Parvati's back was turned, it was quickly replaced by a jealous frown. 

"Don't worry," Hannah said placidly. "We'll all get a turn."

Hermione looked at her in surprise. Hannah had just taken her role as mediator of the group! Well! That was news, indeed, and she wasn't so sure that she was very pleased with it. "Yes, of course we will," she said quickly, looking pointedly at Blaise, who was still frowning.

"You know," Blaise said angrily, "I'm the one who gave her that black lingerie."

Hermione laughed. "You mean you bought it for her?"

"No! We both went down to Risqué, the expensive witches' lingerie shop off of Hogsmeade's corner? You can't even see it unless you're eighteen, you know. They don't want second years wandering 'round in there. But I did."

Hermione was appalled. Breaking rules at Hogwarts! Well, she had to, but only because she had to save the world! And that was because Harry and Ron had forced her to. "How'd you get in?" she asked, disgusted with herself for being fascinated. But she never could resist a chunky nugget of knowledge.

Blaise smiled distantly, as if she was  remembering the…happy times, so to speak. "Oh. Amazing little spell, actually, that you perform upon yourself—let's you see the world through adult eyes. Bit dangerous."

"What's the spell?" Hermione asked quickly, before she could mentally berate herself for such dirty thoughts crossing her mind. 

"_Visitasum__ Synsosium. _Bit dirty, too."

"Dirty!" Hermione said, absolutely enthralled by this point. 

"Yep. Gets you thinking that older men are sexy and all of that rot. But it's okay. The shop was awfully fun."

"Oh, get out of here, Blaise!" Hannah interrupted, laughing. "You nasty-minded thing!"

Blaise smiled provocatively. "What can I say? I was a quick learner."

Hermione shook her head but a small smile did grace her features as she excused herself from the uproarious two—they'd moved on to topics Hermione didn't care to discuss. She didn't care that dragon hide sweatpants were now the hottest thing since bread.

She was tired. She'd been on the show too bloody long to really care that the cameras were following her everywhere, but right now, that stupid dwarf with a mullet that was coaxing her ( "Hey, baby, give us a smile for the camera…yeah, there we go, let's see those pearly whites…shake that arse when you walk…shake it, shake it…sway, babe, you can do this!") sleazily was really beginning to bother her. And she was absolutely itching to use some magic. Literally.

As the night progressed, the other girls could mildly hear her enraged screams and a couple of explosions here and there, maybe a flash or two of jet purple light. Rumor had it, later, that the cameraman quit.

After taking care of business, Hermione walked into her room, dead tired and more than ready to call it a day. Of course, there was still that tiny chore of packing for a hometown date, maybe planning ahead on what to do in London. Bugger. Maybe she should just tell Drac—Malfo—whatever!—that she should just bloody leave the show already. He didn't need her help, and right now she was getting a little too involved for her own tastes.

But right now she was too tired. It could wait till tomorrow.

A/N: **Excillian**- you are amazing! I loved your reviews so much—they were so fabulously long and wonderful and specific! As for the girls…I know, it does get annoying after a while, even to write it. But my reasoning is, they're not really going to change after the first five chapters, but if you notice, it's toned down because there are only a few of them left now. 

If you're one of the many people that asked when there would be romance…I say, look closely. It's been there. I love all of you that saw the subtle changes in Hermione—so I'm not being too drastic with this chapter. But if you think I am, don't hesitate to tell me.

If you're on of the few people that felt bad for Millicent, I'm with you! I loved Millicent and I wouldn't have gotten rid of her unless I absolutely had to for the plot. Which unfortunately I did. 

Anyhow, if you want an e-mail update, just leave your e-mail add in the review. Speaking of, please do, they are all so amazing. 


	11. Analysis

The Bachelor Chapter 11

_Hermione stared up at Parvati glumly. Parvati was putting on an absolute magnificent shade of eye shadow—a shimmer, glimmer, glamorous mix between lavender and a breezy peach. Parvati stepped away from the mirror and grumbling inwardly, Hermione admitted that the girl did look nothing short of fabulous, fantastic, ferociously beautiful. It was really rather depressing._

_Parvati__ smiled at Hermione and said, "Don't I look _wonderful_, Hermione, darling? Won't Draco just adore me in this oh-so-wonderful-beautiful-amazing-gorgeous thing that I have on? I am a goddess!"_

_Hermione agreed. Parvati was a goddess. She looked smashing. Draco suddenly came into the room and gave Parvati a huge smile. "You look fabulous, fantastic, ferociously beautiful," he said reaching over to kiss her in that nice, mushy kind of kiss that Hermione would never admit to wanting. The kind of kiss you just sighed and melted into. Who would want a stupid, romantic thing like that? But this Hermione was jealous as hell…_

Hermione woke up feeling hot and sweaty. She groaned and looked over at her alarm clock, which had conspired against her during the night and conveniently hadn't gone off. Damn thing. It was already 10:00 a.m.! Making a face, Hermione dragged herself out of the bed, plodding quite ungracefully towards the bathroom. Only then did her dream hit her. Yech, had she really just dreamt about being insecure, jealous, and… ugly? Stupid subconscious was wrong! She was not jealous in the least, especially not of Parvati! Parvati who could mix peach and lavender eye shadow and come out with a shade straight from heaven? _Jealous_? Never!

Belching inwardly at the dream, she cleaned up and hurriedly got dressed, then belted out the doorway and raced to the living room, where the other two girls were eagerly awaiting Parvati's arrival. 

"I'm excited," Blaise declared. "I want to know how he is in the sack. All this speculating, and never finding out! I can't wait!"

"Oooh, Blaise," Hannah responded with a small chuck—eh, more like a giggle, these girls couldn't quite laugh any other way—"He had to go visit Parv's parents! You honestly don't think they can find a safe place to have a go when her parents are around!"

Hermione sniffed to announce her welcome. And then sniffed again, just a wee bit louder. When neither of these times worked, Hermione decided both of them were quite deaf and barged right on into the conversation (something she would normally have considered rather rude). "I agree with Hannah," she said acidly. "It is horrid to think of them… er, consummating… while her parents are just downstairs discussing politics over a cup of nice herbal tea."

Blaise looked at Hermione with a small frown. "You did _not_ just say 'consummate'," she finally stated.

Hermione was unnerved. "_What_ is wrong with 'consummating'?"  

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Am I going to have to tell you about the birds and the bees, too?" Blaise said with a wicked grin.

Hermione, ever the scholar, was terribly confused. "Blaise… if I said 'consummating', which I still think is an acceptable…er, way to, um, state the act, then obviously I already know about the birds and the bees. And in all accuracy, what the birds and bees do to flowers is absolutely nothing compared to… the, eh, intimate…thing…that happens between humans. In fact, it is belie—"

"Hermione. You're boring," said Hannah with a small grin.

"Yeah, seriously Miss Consummate, it's just a saying… no need to go into it, okay? We're all clear here; especially me… bet you don't know what to do with a can of yellow spray paint in bed, do you?" Blaise said, looking utterly and completely bored.

Hermione did not even want to imagine what one could do with a can of yellow spray paint while _consummating_. And what was wrong with that bloody word anyway? "You never told me what was wrong with 'consummate'," she said crossly, glaring at Blaise.

"Uh, except for the fact that we're talking acts of intimacy and not breeding of lab rats?" Blaise said, wiggling an eyebrow delicately.

Hermione was taken aback. She didn't think Blaise would know that many scientists, such as herself, used lab rats. Interesting. "When I refer to my lab rats, as you call them," Hermione replied haughtily, "I merely say 'breeding'. Thus I have belied your argument… in other words, Blaise… you got served."

Hermione basked in the wonderful silence that followed her little slang-moment. Oh yeah, she thought happily, it would certainly get her point across marvelously. Cracking a smirk at Blaise, she soon burst into laughter. Hannah joined in and eventually the mildly good-natured sex-fiendish Blaise joined in as well.

"That was a really good one, Hermione," Hannah said warmly. "You're the bomb, dudette!"

Hermione sincerely wished she was studying languages. Oh what a wonderful thing it would be to delve into the world of slang, something she tended not to use… hmm, the bomb. Now who had come up with that? And dudette! It was such an interesting compliment! Wishing she had a pad to jot down notes she turned towards Hannah to say something but was cut off by the slamming of a door.

Parvati marched in, a frown set on her pretty face. Hermione wondered what had gone wrong—Parvati had always liked Draco, and … lately, Hermione had been paying extra attention to Draco, and she knew that Draco had no problem with Parvati.

Nobody needed to ask Parvati, because the girl started her tirade the second she dropped her bag on the floor. "Oh, it was absolutely awful!" she cried unhappily. Blaise and Hannah and a reluctant (only because Hermione always felt awkward with this comforting-crying-people business) Hermione rushed towards her and patted her.

"What went wrong?" Hannah murmured soothingly. "I'm sure it was fine!"

"It was _so_ not fine," Parvati mumbled, and sank down on the closest couch. "He spent the whole time talking to my mum and dad and Padma!"

Hermione was flabbergasted. "He obviously likes your family, Parvati," she said wearily, "why in the world would you be upset?"

"Because he spent more time with them than he did with me!" Parvati snapped viciously. "Especially horrid old Padma. It was Padma-what-do-you-study and Padma-are-you-married and Padma-do-you-like-cats and Padma-how -was-Ravenclaw! Nothing but questions for Padma and compliments for my mum and political debates with my dad! Nothing for me! Nothing at all! The only thing he said was "Parvati's a really nice girl with an interesting fashion sense!" That is IT!"

Hermione reckoned now was a pretty damn good time to leave. Parvati was obviously just a couple of tantrums short of epileptic fit, and Blaise and Hannah seemed to realize this as well. "Why don't you go have a rest," Blaise comforted. "You'll feel loads better."

Parvati nodded, picked up her bag, and marched up the stairs. "Oh, and Hermione," she called down, "he talked about you, too! He _hates_ me!" she sobbed melodramatically and disappeared into the bedroom.

Hermione could not have felt madder at Parvati than she did at that moment. How could she just leave without explaining what Draco had said! Of course Hermione's mind couldn't help but contemplate what he might have said. Parvati had not even mentioned if the comment was flattering or not. Perhaps he'd said, "Parvati's fashion sense is so much more interesting than some of the girls… like Hermione." 

Now that was derogatory.

But maybe he'd said something like, "Hermione Granger—was in Parvati's class, I think, wasn't she?—is also a scientist, Padma! She's made loads of money in the field and I think she enjoys it quite thoroughly." 

That would have been brilliant. But Hermione had an awful tendency to be pessimistic as hell and thus could not help but think he must've compared something or the other in which Hermione got the short end of the stick. Bugger!

Blaise looked forlornly at the empty space where Parvati had been a few seconds ago. "Well, I'll be darned… no nooky?"

"Blaise!" Hermione erupted. "You may be Queen-of-Copulation-With-Handcuffs-And-Strawberry-Shortcake but I am tired of hearing this conversation with only one topic! No more talk about… this… stuff!" Hermione turned a bit red in spite of herself. Why was it that she always had so much trouble talking about the … er, forces of nature?

Hermione expected Blaise to be slightly offended, at least, but Blaise just laughed. "Sure, Hermione. You know you enjoy it; because deep down inside, you are _dirty_. Scratch that, you're just filthy! You animal!" she joked.

"Me! Animal! I'm the only one here that hasn't got some animalistic lust for our bachelor!" she huffed. Couldn't Blaise understand that Hermione was itching for a nice, organized, big-worded fight here? None of this… Blaise-joking-Hermione-yelling business. That just didn't cut it.

"No, Hermione, you don't have animalistic lust," cut in Hannah, "but I think you have a little literary lust going here, don't you?" 

Oh, damn Hannah and her observant ways, Hermione fumed. Damn them all! "No, Hannah," she said coldly. "Just because I think that Draco is an excellent source of botanical knowledge, not to mention an avid reader, not to mention intelligent, does not mean I am head-over-heels-in-literary-lust with the kid." But even as she said it, she knew the feeling extended just a wee bit past lust. Bugger! Stupid pheromones in her brain, telling her who to like and who not to! And why in demon jewels did Draco have to read!

He'd look really rather sexy with a nice pair of specs.

Clamping her hand over her mouth, even though she was positive she hadn't said it out loud, Hermione mumbled something about having to pack and raced up the stairs. By the time she got up the winding path, not only was she out of breath, but she realized that if she kept reacting like that every time her traitorous mind (ooh, it was absolutely awful!) decided to go and say something a bit inappropriate about Draco Malfoy she was going to go berserk. She'd have to be calm and cool about it. Calm, and cool. 

Not to mention he had a nice arse.

Ignoring the bleeping noises her mind was now issuing, Hermione decided that because she was up here anyway she might as well pack. She grabbed her suitcase, threw in some clothes all higgledy-piggledy and shut it with a snap. Checking her watch she soon realized she only had half-an-hour before she was scheduled to meet Draco and visit her darling old mum and dad. It was going to be torture—she knew it.

Against her will (well, maybe not so much) Hermione settled down to spend the last half-hour reading the damnable yet horribly interesting romance novel that Parvati had recommended—_The Enemies Tryst_. Oddly fitting, the palpable thing that it was—Blaise probably enjoyed it quite thoroughly. Before she knew it, time was up, and she threw the novel under her bed (just to make sure nobody caught her reading it _again_!). Grabbing her suitcase, she lugged it down the stairs and out the front door, calling quick byes to the other three, who wished her… er, interesting aspects… in Blaise's case, involving that can of yellow spray paint.

Draco was waiting for her, looking handsome as ever (she had _not_ just thought that! It was the heat!). "Got quite a load for one night," he commented lightly as she struggled with the stupid bag.

"Well, um…" Hermione said intelligently. Was she being a hypocrite when she said that all the girls only cared about clothes and make-up? Wasn't her bag filled quite heavily with clothing? "Want to help me?" she finally mumbled.

"Now maybe _want_ isn't the best word," he teased her lightly, and deftly took the suitcase from her grasp and swung it into the car, next to his tiny duffel bag. "But I will help you." 

"Why thank you for your generosity," Hermione bit back, inwardly slapping herself. Now why did she always have to be sarcastic? Maybe Draco didn't want her to be sarcastic. She slapped herself again. Since when did she care what others thought? She was going to be herself, no matter how much her murderous heart protested.

"Anytime," he replied easily, and soon they were in the car, traveling down to London, which was actually only an hour's drive away from the mansion. Hermione leaned forward and told the driver, who looked rather amused at the situation, where to go, then turned back towards Draco.

"So," she began. "Read anything lately?"

He nodded. "I read this book with a fantastic approach to the Venus fly trap. Did you know it originated as a wizard plant but throughout years of abuse was degraded to become some sort of exotic thing for muggles?"

Hermione was, needless to say, instantly captivated. "Really?" she breathed. "Tell me about it." 

And so he did, and Hermione found herself loving every millisecond of the wonderful, intellectual conversation, a real relief from what she'd been hearing (the 'dudettes' and the 'nookies'), and not to mention, it was making her heart beat faster and faster.

The ride felt like five minutes and Hermione felt a familiar sense of nostalgia as her parents' house became larger as they drove up to it. "Well, here it is," she said, feeling a bit silly. " 'Course it's probably as big as your pool house, but this is what we have."

He smiled. "I never was one for big houses, but that might be because I accidentally wandered into the dungeons when I was three years old. Bit unpleasant."

She laughed her hyena-horse-giggle-laugh, the one she'd resigned would come out if she was in near vicinity of Draco (horrid, embarrassing thing that it was). "I suppose it would be," she replied and rang the doorbell of the quaint home. Hermione hadn't been back here in two years, and it was really nice to see it again, although the circumstances were downright awkward.

Her mum threw open the door and greeted her daughter with not a "Dear!" not a "Lovely!" not a "Hello!" but a tight hug which caused Hermione to trip back on her suitcase, which Draco had placed on the porch, and fall right into Draco himself.

He staggered under her weight for a second but caught her and righted both of their footing. "Wow, there, Hermione, how much have you been eating?" he asked. Hermione smacked his left arm and turned towards her mother.

"Thanks, mum," she said sarcastically, but she couldn't stay mad at the woman for long. "It's been forever, hasn't it?"

Her mother nodded. "I agree. I'm soo happy you went on this show, Hermione! You know what I'm looking forward to!"

Hermione was mortified. Surely her mother was not planning on bringing up the "Grandbabies or I'm stabbing you with my dinner fork!" routine. Oh, please no. For the moment Hermione successfully avoided it by introducing Draco. "Oh, mum," she said, "this is well, the bachelor of the show…Draco Malfoy."

Her mother's smile faded a few notches and she looked at her daughter, then to Draco, then back at her daughter. "Do come in," she finally said, and the two stepped inside the well-lit house. Her mother smiled warmly at Draco but when she turned away Hermione noticed the puzzled expression on her face.

"You both are a tad late," she told them, "so let's get dinner started right away, shall we?"

Draco told her that would be lovely (and Hermione nearly melted at the manners! Manners! Wonderful!) and said he would be right back; he had to go wash up. Hermione smiled to herself. He was awfully conceited about his good looks; that was certain.

As soon as Draco had disappeared her mother turned to her. "Hermione, darling, wasn't Draco Malfoy the boy you absolutely despised while you were at your magic school?"

Hermione turned beet red and shrugged. "Heh, heh, I had him pegged all wrong. He's really all right—I've had to get used to him for these last five weeks, and he's a … nice boy."

Her mum grinned happily. "Nice enough to marry?" she asked excitedly.

Hermione swatted at her mother's arm gently and walked into the kitchen. "Don't talk like that," she warned, "I don't think he reciprocates the way I feel about him."

"You like him then?" her mother squealed. "Oh, Ted, come in here! Hermione likes a boy! Hermione likes a boy!"

Hermione wondered if a pot of cold water would make her melt, because right now being dead seemed a better option than carrying out with this dinner. Gods, if this was her mother, then what was dear old daddy going to be like?

Speaking of the man, he sauntered into the kitchen with a huge grin on his face. "Omelet! It's wonderful to see you again! Come here, you, give your old man a hug!" Hermione smiled and complied; it was great to see dad again…although she hoped she'd heard him wrong with that stupid pet name from her early, early, early years.

Of course, the gods were out to get her, because her father did it again. "So, Omelet, where's the boy? I need to beat the pulp out of any boy who's going to take away my daughter!"

"Dad," Hermione said very patiently, although she felt like she was walking in tar, "He is not going to take me away. He might not even pick me. I just think he's a nice, literary boy, okay? So none of this business tonight!"

Her father laughed but before he could reply, Draco walked back into the kitchen. Her mother ushered them all into the dining room and Hermione sat down across from Draco, who unfortunately was sitting right next to Hermione's father. Well. So much for pleasant dinner conversation.

Hermione's mother came and sat down next to Hermione and the dinner—which Hermione had accurately predicted as roast beef and mashed potatoes, with some greens on the side—began. Draco complimented her mum's cooking and thus began the… er, interesting conversations that were soon to follow.

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, for letting me eat dinner with you tonight," Draco said politely. Hermione noticed he ate very… cleanly. Such a relief from Harry and Ron! Maybe it was because Draco had been brought up in such an environment. Whatever it was it was beautiful to look at. 

"Oh, please call me Jane," Hermione's mother gushed. Her father told Draco to call him Ted, but seemed a bit reluctant about it.

"So," her father began, "Tell me a little about yourself… oh, dear, I've forgotten your name!"

"It's Draco, sir, Draco Malfoy."

Hermione and her mother both froze. Neither had alerted Mr. Granger about this insane possibility that Hermione oddly fancied the one boy she'd rather hated. Sure enough Mr. Granger reacted with some surprise. "Draco Malfoy?" he echoed softly. "I think I've heard some unpleasant stories about you, young man."

Hermione marveled at Draco's ability to not turn red. He handled it very calmly, actually. "Well, Ted, Hermione and I were, needless to say, not the best of friends during our years at Hogwarts. Just the ritual boy-girl teasing that goes on, I assure you, unless Hermione was too sensitive about it?"

Damn him. Forget anything she'd ever said about his… looks, or his derriere, or his…books; he was _not_ going to blame this on her _sensitivity_. "Not at all, mum, Draco really did have a razor tongue in those days," she said, glaring at him.

"I did not. And if I recall, Hermione was none too pleasant either," he retorted.

Hermione's mother sensed some sort of yelling-each-other's-heads-off that might follow and quickly changed the topic. "Well, no matter, Ted, it seems they're nice friends now!"

Luckily for her, Hermione's father got the hint. "All right then, Draco, I'm sorry… I just hadn't expected Hermione to turn right around and fancy the boy she once hated!"

Hermione looked down at her potatoes like they were the most fascinating book in the entire world. The whole table laughed politely at the joke but Hermione, still sour, did not.  "Oh, I'm not so sure she quite fancies me," Draco said amiably, "We have a different sort of relationship, beyond all of that silly stuff."

Well, at least he said the "I'm keeping her for advice" in a very nice way.

For a while, conversation was nice, neutral, and normal—politics and magic and dinner and other stuff that Hermione could handle—but when they got to dessert (treacle tart) the awkwardness intensified.

"So, Omelet, you think you're ready to settle down?" her father asked.

"You know how I feel about grandchildren," her mother added passionately.

Hermione felt sick. "Er, I'm a free-spirited person, mum and dad. When I'm ready to settle I'll let you know."

Draco was smirking from the other end of the table. "Oh, _Omelet_, I don't know… I think you should give marriage a chance," he said.

Hermione faced him, anger bubbling like soda pop in her veins, but she decided she should just let it go, take it easy, ignore this mortification from the other three people she was dining with. "Actually…yes, you're right. If someone I really, really fancied… loved, I guess… were to propose to me, I most certainly would get married."

She hoped he understood the hint. Then again, she didn't love him. She merely fancied him. A whole lot. 

The rest of the time with her parents went by nicely, as Hermione controlled any reaction she might have to some of the things said. As the evening drew to a close, her father stood up and said, "Well let me take you two to your rooms; Hermione, you'll just have your room and Draco can have the guest bedroom next to it."

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was dressed for bed and ready to sleep, when she heard a knock on her door. She opened it and in front of her stood Draco, wearing just boxer shorts. She firmly told herself that salivating was for dogs and gave him a weak smile. "Yes?" she asked.

"I wanted to talk," he said. "I really liked your parents… I never thought I'd like a Muggle!"

Hermione shrugged. "Well they do know a lot about magic…I tell them stuff."

"Yeah, well, it's nice," he said, and plopped himself down on her bed. Fudge crackers, she thought to herself, what if her mum and dad found out he was sitting on her bed? What would they assume? What would she tell Blaise? Gingerly she sat down next to him and stared at her carpet.

"So what did you think of Parvati's house?" she found herself asking.

"It was awfully nice," he said, "but I don't know… I don't think Parvati and I could get along that well, if we, you know, got married."

"Your mum is probably thrilled though, that you actually utter the word."

He nodded. "She must be—you know I have to take the top two girls that I pick to visit my family. Won't that be fun… oh, look, here's the torture chamber, and up the stairs we have our collection of kinky looking skeletons…"

She laughed. "It won't be that bad. I'm sure the lucky two girls will love it." She wished she could see his house.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I like Hannah; we get along fantastically. Blaise… Blaise is dirty! But it's entertaining. And Parvati is nice as well. And then of course there's you."

Hermione yearned to find out what implications were in "there's you". Was it good? Was it bad? Was it neautral? Did he fancy her? Maybe he hated her. No, he couldn't hate her; he'd kept her far too long.

"Well, I better be getting back," he said soon. "Wouldn't want your parents to get the wrong idea now, don't you think?" he asked with a laugh.

She giggled. "Yes, I shudder to see their reaction to that one."

He walked out the door, blowing her a kiss as he ambled out. She fell asleep that night dreaming of a flying kiss. What did it mean? Oh, damn him!

The next morning dawned clear and before Hermione knew it they were in the car ride back home. It was just as fascinating as the one there, for starters, and Hermione could feel some sort of chemistry between them. It was awfully nice. Hermione hadn't felt this way about any boy before and she, being naturally curious, wanted more.

For the next two days, she had plenty of time to think about romantic possibility between the two of them. It would be nice, but it would also be terrifying at the same time. What if his idea of a good time was vastly different than hers? But no, it couldn't be, she reminded herself. He liked books. He was all right.

Hannah came home from her overnight/family date overjoyed, claiming that he really liked her parents and found her little sister to be entertaining. She also said that the two of them had made out in the closet, although it wasn't for very long because he said he was tired. Blaise came home from her overnight/family date happy but a bit disappointed because she didn't get what she wanted from Draco. She blamed her family, saying that they were too inquisitive and wouldn't leave them alone for one second.

Soon the dreaded rose ceremony approached and Hermione was quite unhappy with herself, because unfortunately she was nervous. Draco hadn't said anything about needing her any longer, but now she wanted to stay more than anything. She knew that just a few days ago she had contemplated leaving… but… wouldn't it be fun to see the end? Even if he didn't pick her… she knew he wouldn't, but it would be awfully nice if he did.

Draco got up there and began the traditional speech. "All of you have wonderful family," he said, "and I thoroughly enjoyed every visit. But… I felt more of a connection, more of a closer fit, with some of you than with others."

He took a deep breath and called out the first name. "Hannah."

She smiled broadly, went up and hugged him, and accepted the rose.

He took another deep breath and called out "Parvati."

She did the exact same thing as Hannah, only she emitted a very tiny squeal before she went up.

Draco took the customary minute and a half before he called out the last name. "Hermione."

Hermione couldn't believe it, but happily she went up, and was instantly nervous. There was a customary hug that she had not yet given to Draco… and she kind of, very nearly wanted to. She took the rose in her hand and slowly turned towards him, really hoping he'd get the hint.

He didn't.

She hugged him, fast, furious, and fanatically, and then went back to her spot, looking at the floor so nobody would see the red patches on her face.

But of course sooner or later she had to look up, and when she did, he winked at her.

Damn it! Yet another thing she had to dissect and decipher. Oh well…maybe it was like a puzzle! And puzzles were fun! Inwardly groaning, Hermione sat down and began to contemplate.

A/N: This is a _long_ (and I mean it! It's the longest I've written for this fic!) chapter to make up for the long wait. I hope you all enjoyed it; I liked writing it! I'm sorry it took me so long, but I was on holidays and you can't exactly update when you aren't in town, right? Anyway, thanks a million for your super reviews! They are so inspiring; I loved each and every one of them, and I always go back and read them. 

Many of you have pointed out that Blaise is a boy. Yes, I do think he is, but for the purposes of this fic he is a girl. Just accept it, please! 

Even though I've been at fanfiction for a long time, I still don't know how to put bold or italics in my bio… so if anyone knows, please tell me! Thanks! Once again, I do e-mail adds, and please review, they are all fantastic.


	12. Actions

The Bachelor Chapter 12

Tearful goodbyes were said to Blaise, who gave a half-hearted smile and disappeared, but not before whispering "strawberries and whipped cream" to Draco. He waved, Blaise pouted, and the night continued.

"Oh my gosh," whispered a drunken Parvati. "Blaise is so hardcore."

"Hardcore?" Hermione was unfamiliar with the term, which she thought referred to dangerous sports, i.e. Quidditch. 

"Yeah, like she is so cool," Hannah said as she took another swig of firewhiskey. " 'Cause she's so brave and stuff like she can do things to Draco that we all like wanna do."

Hannah was slurring her words. Hermione shook her head disdainfully and tried to wrestle the cup away from Hannah. "No more," she said firmly. When Hannah's grip on the glass tightened Hermione pulled harder.

Not a good idea, she soon found out, as she had ended up sprawled on the ground, firewhiskey spilled all down her front. Moaning in frustration, she stood up and with horror noticed her lovely, stretchy white robes had become, annoyingly enough, see-through. "Hannah!" she wailed. "Look what you've done!"

"It's cute, Hermione," Parvati giggled. "Show it to Draco. I bet he wants to see."

Draco was on the other side of the room, engaged in conversation with Kathy Silver. Must be catching up on death-eater-tales, Hermione thought darkly, but unfortunately insulting him had lost its appeal.

But it brought a whole other appeal… 

No, must not think that way, Hermione reminded herself. Primly she shook her head and told the girls she was going to go upstairs to change. She headed towards the stairs and on the third step heard a voice calling her.

Male voice. Must be Draco. Eagerly she turned and nearly lost her footing. With a bit of a stumble she gave him a tiny frown. "What do you want?" she said sternly, her heart pounding.

"Nothing," he replied, looking slightly taken aback. "Just wanted to know where you were off to."

She faked a large sigh. "Hannah and I were, well, I was trying to keep her from exceeding her alcohol limit, and that resulted in a bit of a… tug-of-war with the drink and it ended up spilling all over me."

He grinned mischievously. "Oh, that. Don't worry, your breasts aren't misshapen or anything."

Her jaw slackened. The pig! How awful of him! Huffing she turned around quickly and this time managed to lose her balance completely on the steep stairs. "Uh-oh," she whispered as she tumbled backwards.

And promptly passed out.

"Hey, hey, Hermione, are you okay?" someone was standing over her. Someone with an awful case of halitosis.

"I _was_," she mumbled. "Can't…breathe…"

She struggled to open her eyes, and when she did a very pink mouth was moving. "Are you okay?" it sounded again.

Kathy Silver. Note to self, Hermione thought, send Kathy breath-mints as a thank you present. Extra strong.

"I'm fine," she muttered, and tried to get up. 

"Then get off my nephew," Kathy stated firmly with a teasing smile. 

Crap, Hermione thought frantically. She couldn't even get him anymore because she'd inadvertently squished him!

She stood up so fast the blood rushed to her head and she felt dizzy. But as soon as she was fine she glanced down at him, praying she hadn't killed off The Bachelor. Good, he was breathing. Move, she commanded telepathically. Move!

He stirred and Hermione exhaled loudly. Suddenly exhausted, she whispered a quick goodnight to Kathy, wished Draco good luck in his rising endeavors, and waved to the laughing Parvati and Hannah. 

Damn them. Since when had she become so clumsy?

Hannah called after her, "Did you eat too many bagels, Hermione? No wonder poor Draco can't get up!"

Hermione slammed the door shut. Hard. 

The next morning dawned cloudy and rainy. Hermione grinned. She enjoyed the occasional stormy day. In fact she was in such a good mood she even attempted to sing in the shower, albeit under her breath. Couldn't have Parvati or Hannah hear her; oh no, that would be hell. Humming gently, she even blow dried her hair, and smiled when it formed into slightly less frizzy curls. She gave them a genteel pat and hummed all the way down to breakfast. Hannah arrived twenty minutes later, and another thirty after that, Parvati came down, cream colored fluffy towel still wrapped around her head.

"I'm positively starved," she said cheerily. "What's for breakfast?"

Hannah handed her an apple and a glass of milk. "Watch your figure," she reminded.

"This is hardly watching," Parvati said, giggling as she polished the apple. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Want to have a bagel?" she asked Parvati, while glaring at Hannah. 

Hermione was really not beginning to like Hannah. Food policing little twat.

The problem was, Hannah was really, really nice in all other areas. It was difficult not to like her. Hermione decided to make it a point to learn.

Kathy Silver came in some twenty minutes later with a cheery announcement. "Well," she began happily. "It's down to three, eh, girls? Are you all excited?"

"Excited?" Hermione mumbled. "This is the part where we get emotionally attached."

"Exactly. There's a lot at stake, my girls… namely, your poor, breakable hearts."

Forget breath-mints. Hermione wasn't sending her anything.

"Well, I guess I'll tell you the itinerary now," Kathy said to the empty silence. All three girls looked very upset.

"Do go on," Hannah said coldly. "Before our _poor, breakable hearts_ break."

There she was again. Hermione found it harder and harder to dislike the creature. Instead of thinking about Hannah, Hermione focused on Kathy's notes. She was eager to see what would happen next.

"It's time for the Dream Dates," Kathy began mysteriously. "How many of you know what that is?"

"Oh, please," Hermione snapped. "This isn't class; just tell us already. I'm sure we're all… eager to find out."

Kathy frowned. "Well, Draco picked out three beautiful places he really enjoyed; dubbed Dream Dates. He's going to go with each of you to one of these places. It's random which one you will get. They're overnight dates, too. At the end of the week we'll have our rose ceremony."

Parvati, Hannah, and Hermione all exchanged glances. Things had just gotten very, very serious. And very, very romantic.

"What kind of places?" Parvati asked nervously.

"Vacation spots, of course!" Kathy said, her smile suddenly back. "We've restricted him to Europe or Asia, however; we didn't want you all to Apparate across to North America or anything."

"Well, what are the three spots?" Hannah asked.

"You'll find out," Kathy said with a wink, and disappeared.

A few minutes later, a singing pink letter arrived where Kathy had once been. Glittering glamorously, it called out, "Oh, Parvati, oh Parvati, this one is for you!"

Parvati nearly rocketed out of her chair to reach the letter. Record time, Hermione noticed. 

"Where are you going?" she asked, at the same time as Hannah.

"The beaches of Normandy!" Parvati said excitedly. "I haven't been to Normandy since… since ever! Oh, gosh, I love France!"

"When are you leaving?" Hannah demanded.

"Oh, gosh, in like three hours! How am I going to get ready?" she wailed. "Girls, please help me! Please. I'll help you on your dates, I promise."

Reluctantly Hannah and Hermione agreed to help Parvati, effectively spending their afternoon stuffing fancy lingerie and revealing bathing suits into her bags. Finally Parvati was ready to depart, and blowing the girls kisses, she left happily, wearing a cute sundress. 

Hannah turned to Hermione. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"Well, aren't you?" Hermione retaliated.

Hannah nodded glumly. "I hate that. I love Normandy."

"You'll probably end up going someplace better," Hermione consoled. "Plus, he likes you."

She hadn't meant to say that. It had unfortunately happened to slip out. 

"How do you know?" Hannah said suspiciously. "Seriously, how do you know?"

Hermione hated being put on the spot. Turning furiously red, she shook her head. "Know what?" she asked with a teeny hysterical hiccup.

"Don't play dumb," Hannah warned. "I know you know!"

"I know you know that I know," Hermione said merrily, trying her best to change the topic. 

"Stop trying to change the subject," Hannah growled. "Tell me."

"Didn't know you were so ferocious," Hermione began, but being at the receiving end of one of Hannah's dirty looks, she stumbled and admitted to the whole thing. "So, you see," she finally finished up. "Draco's been asking me for advice and all. That's why I'm on the show."

"He planted you here from the very beginning? Is that why you even applied?" Hannah asked incredulously.

"No, no, no!" Hermione corrected hastily. "I didn't know it was going to be Draco, but we kind of struck a deal at the beginning. I don't know why I agreed to help him, but we're kind of friends now." It was awfully awkward telling Hannah, but Hermione was not prepared for the girl's next statement.

"So you're not competition, then!" Hannah bellowed gaily. "And here I was worried that there was a bit of a chance he might pick _you_! I should've known; he wouldn't pick you of course. Now all I need to worry about is Parvati!"

Hermione couldn't help the tears that pricked at her eyes. Even these girls, who didn't care about social class or previous rivalries or friends that would be really upset if she married Draco didn't think that she had a chance with him. Suddenly feeling very rejected she stood up and walked shakily to her room, ignoring Hannah's, "What's wrong?". Ordinarily she would have taken offense at Hannah's statement, but the fact that it was true was really depressing. And Hannah had just been blunt about it. Made Hermione see the truth.

Her conversation with Hannah was limited for the next day and half, until Parvati returned, her smile wide. "It was so beautiful," she said. "I wish it never ended. It was like a honeymoon."

"Did you sleep with him?" Hannah asked.

"He didn't want to," Parvati said, looking puzzled. "We messed around a bit but then he said he didn't want to go any further. He's _so_ noble!"

Hermione suspected something else entirely but kept her mouth shut.

The next day, a singing letter done up in green arrived for Hannah. "Vienna," she said happily. "I've never been to Austria."

As promised, Parvati helped her pack and Hermione joined in. Hannah departed with a grin, a "wish me luck!" and a "hope Hermione told him good things about me!" Parvati looked puzzled but Hermione was in no mood to explain to her as well. Let her be in the dark.

All while Hannah was gone, Hermione thought about what she was doing. Was she sightseeing with him? Was she "messing around" with him? Did he do _it_ with her? Feeling immature, Hermione sighed. She had to stop this. She hated obsessing over him; it made her feel extremely vulnerable and it was making her very upset. Poor Parvati got the brunt of her bad mood; Hermione was constantly snappish and irritable. 

At dinner one night Parvati casually mentioned Draco. Well, not so casually, considering the giggle and pant that went with the name. Customary. "I'm scared," she admitted. "I don't think he's going to pick me."

"The cameras will pick this up," Hermione hissed. "Do you want to look like a wuss in front of everyone that is watching this spectacle of a show? Sadly it is the highest rated show on the Wizard Broadcasting Network!"

"That's also known as WizTV, right?" Parvati asked, confused. "In other words, out of all the shows that are available to wizards, this one gets the most people watching, right?"

Hermione nodded. Her brain felt like goo, talking to such… silly people. 

"Anyway," Parvati continued. "I don't care about the cameras. I'm saying that I don't think he's going to pick me… and… I'm hoping he picks you."

Surprised, Hermione blinked. 

Parvati continued as the words gushed out of her mouth. "I mean it; I think you both make the cutest couple. After all there's a thin line between love and hate, right?"

Hermione blinked again.

"I really, really hope he picks you. You know I'm rooting for you Hermione." With that Parvati left the table and retired to her room.

Hermione stared after her friend. She suddenly felt horrible. How could she ever call such a nice person silly? Parvati was definitely an amazing, wonderful friend. Hermione suddenly felt that squishy, warm, mushy feeling inside that she had always scorned against. 

Damn. She was such a hypocrite.

Hannah returned, looking pleased. Hermione bit back the first question that rose to her mind and hugged her. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Hannah responded vibrantly. "We get along beautifully. I think… I think I might be in love with him," she finally stumbled out.

Hermione's heart contracted but her smile stayed just as bright. "That's wonderful," she said warmly. 

The next day, Hermione's own letter, in silver and white, arrived. She tore it open and read the salutation, which bade her to come to Switzerland. With a whoop, Hermione raced back to the other girls. "I get to go to Switzerland!" she said excitedly. "It's supposed to be absolutely breathtaking there."

To her surprise both Hannah and Parvati made slight faces. "Hermione," they said, trying to be pacifying, "it's really cold there. Like really, really cold."

Hermione shrugged. "I love cold weather," she informed them. "Anyway, helping me pack?"

The girls ended up packing warm winter wear and tight cashmere sweaters, and even lacy black lingerie. "Make sure you're inside when you wear this," Parvati said with a squeeze. "We don't want you to die in the name of fashion!"

The three laughed and Hermione was off.

Hermione was picked up by Draco himself and he gave her a grin. "Well, you ready to Apparate? I want to end up in the same place as you, oddly enough."

"Oh, shut it," she said, swatting at his arm. "Ready?"

One apparition later, Hermione found herself in an elegant hotel, Draco by her side. "Well, what do you think? I picked it out."

"It's marvelous," she breathed. "What are we going to do today?"

"Well," he began. "I thought we'd take the train to Geneva…we're in Zurich right now…the train that goes up to the mountains. It's…well, I think it's magnificent."

"Oh," she began. "I'm sure it is. I've heard Switzerland is absolutely gorgeous."

"It's my favorite place out of the three. In fact, it's my favorite spot anywhere. I love the cold weather over any beach weather. Love the silver mists," he said. His voice sounded far-off and Hermione suddenly felt like a puddle with his words. He wasn't even being romantic and she felt this way? Hardening her emotions, she gave him a smile. Not a loving, sappy smile, mind you, but a, well-I-think-so-too sort of smile.

"Me too," she said.

They boarded the train, each carrying a pair of sunglasses, because the snow was so bright it was blinding. Huddling in front of the window, they watched as the train climbed higher, the trees suddenly became pines, and soon the beautiful vision of the snow started. It was as gorgeous as imagined, and Draco and Hermione watched it, entranced by nature.

"I love this," Hermione said. "Thanks for picking Switzerland."

"You know," he responded. "Somehow I think you were the right girl for Switzerland. Parvati and Hannah just wouldn't have appreciated the beauty as much."

They stepped out of the train and were immediately hit by blasts of cold air. Unconsciously Hermione snuggled close to Draco and was amazed when he held her so close. Like a couple. 

She felt tingly and weird. She wanted the moment to end, but she didn't want it to end. Gooey and romantic; the two things she'd promised herself she'd never be.

"So, _Omelet_," he began. "How's life?"

"Oh, you!" she cried. "I hate that nickname!"

"I think it's cute," he said. "After all, you're just as round as an omelet!"

In her anger, Hermione reached gingerly into the snow and having packed it tightly, threw it straight at him. "I am not round!" she screeched.

"Only kidding!" he surrendered as two more snowballs hit him, one quite dangerously close to his reproductive region.

In this manner they spent the day, and finally returned to the nice hotel. Tiredly they trudged up the stairs to their hotel room, which was lovely but had only one magnificently large bed.

Hermione was immediately worried. To the other girls this was normal, but to her… after all, there was nothing between them, at least from his part. Worriedly she sat down on the bed as he went to remove the bulky layers of clothing. In a few moments he emerged, wearing a sweater and pants. "That's better," he declared. "Maybe you won't look so round anymore once you take off the fourteen layers you're wearing."

Huffily she stood. "It's only six," she called back, and went to the bathroom to peel off the multiples of clothing. She came out wearing just the elegant shirt that Parvati had packed with a pair of jeans.

"Isn't it a bit cold for that?" he teased. She wondered if his response would have been different if she had been Hannah or Parvati. Would he have said, "hey, you look stunning in that?". Would he have reacted differently?

Ignoring her thoughts she sat down next to him. "It's warm in the hotel room," she reminded.

A silence grew between them; not an awkward silence but a comfortable silence. Finally he spoke again. "Hey, Hermione," he began. She turned to look at him. "Thanks," he said. "Thanks for being so cooperative. I couldn't have gone through the show without you. Hell I would've bolted by the second date!"

She laughed but inwardly tried to figure out what he meant.

But before she could she noticed that there were barely two inches between his face and hers. Since when had he gotten so close? He moved in closer and before Hermione could decipher what was happening he had kissed her on the corner of her mouth and pulled away.

"What was that for?" she breathed.

He didn't respond, only kissed her again, this time… quite properly, Hermione discovered. For a moment she let herself be kissed, even kissed back a bit, until she remembered everything and hastily pushed him away. 

He looked surprise but scooted away from her. 

"Don't do this, Draco!" she said with finality in her tone. "I know you kiss every girl on the show, mess around with them and mess around with their heads. I can't have that. I can't leave the show… dejected because you've come onto me and then decided I'm only worth one go and pick someone else!"

"It's not like that," he said, his tone narrowing as well. "But if you think so, then fine! Be a prude!"

"I'm not a prude!" she yelled, fighting back her tears. "I'm not, I'm not! I just don't rush headlong into everything. I like to think a little less! I want to analyze and understa—" 

She was cut off by soft lips, again. In her ferocious temper, she kissed him back, hard, letting it all go by ways of a kiss. Their tongues battled, not in soft appreciation but in anger and some odd form of attraction.

When air was required they pulled away and stared at each other, breathing heavily. "Good night," he finally said, pulling out his wand and creating a smaller bed to the left side of the large one.

He made his way to the small bed and Hermione stared at him for a second, before getting dressed and sliding into the warmth of her larger one.

The next morning, they got dressed hurriedly and spoke normally, neither daring to mention the activity of last night. "Come on, Omelet," he teased. "I don't care if you have mascara on or not!"

"I'm not putting make up on for _you_," she said coldly. "It's so others can appreciate my beauty."

Finally they were ready and they went out and shopped a bit. But time seemed to slip by like water and soon their little stay in Switzerland was over. With a hug they Apparated away to their respective parts of the mansion.

Hermione arrived with only thirty minutes left until the rose ceremony. Parvati and Hannah fawned over her in happiness, asking her questions. "We didn't have sex," she told them, and finally they backed off. 

"I wonder if he's capable of having sex," Parvati said finally. "He hasn't slept with anyone yet!"

"I'm sure he has," Hannah replied, "but it's weird that he didn't on the show."

They got ready and traipsed down to the room in which the rose ceremony began. Draco was there, and when he saw Hermione he gave her a hard glare. "Well… with three of you left, it's become increasingly difficult," he said. "I really like all of you. Not… romantically, but I really like all of you."

He pulled out the first rose and exhaled loudly. "Hannah." 

Hannah seemed to have been expecting it. She got up, hugged him tightly and accepted the rose.

Draco pulled out the next rose and looked from Parvati's face to Hermione's. "This is so difficult," he said again. "Hermione."

Hermione was shocked. After the date she hadn't been expecting a rose at all; she'd expected him to move on to a girl that appreciated his romantic endeavors in a different way. But nevertheless she walked up to the rose and took it, wondering if she should accept it or not.

"Accept it," he said.

She did. Giving her a small squeeze he moved to say goodbye to Parvati. Hermione remembered what Parvati had said earlier and moved to say goodbye to her friend as well.

Giving Parvati a hug she whispered, "Thanks so much for your vote. It meant a lot to me."

With a smile Parvati turned back to her. "I'm counting on you being the one to get in his pants," she said, effectively lightening the mood. "Good luck!"

With a giggle, Hermione stared after her, wondering if Parvati's wish would come true.

A/N: You guys wanted action; you got it. Oh dear, only one or two chapters left! I'm sorry to say that this fic is really coming to an end. Thanks for your absolutely *magnificent* reviews; I love them so much! Tell me if I have any major spelling errors, I haven't properly edited this thing, cuz I was in too much of a hurry to post.

Leave your e-mail add if you want an e-mail update, and with that, I'm out. Please review!


	13. Audacious

The Bachelor Chapter 13

An odd sensation hacked at Hermione's insides as she watched Parvati disappear. The room seemed to have grown larger with the absence of the other girls. She mused to herself…twenty-five of them had once cloistered inside this room. Twenty-four of them had been hoping to be that last girl there.

Out of those twenty-four, only one of them remained.

Shaking her head in contemplation, Hermione marveled at how far she'd come. Of course her competitive side hummed with glee when she thought of how she'd ousted all of those gold-diggers. Then again, battled her look-at-the-reasons side, what the hell was she doing frolicking, yes, hideously cavorting around with Draco Malfoy?

He was ambling over towards her now. Oh, shit.

She looked down at the sofa. Bright red. Mmm, sexy. No, Hermione, not sexy, she chided herself. Sofas weren't sexy...but they could be _made_ to be sexy. Depending on what you did with them or how you used them.

Crap. Blaise was _so_ rubbing off on her.

"Hermione," Draco said warmly sitting down next to her. "Wine?"

She shook her head primly. "No, thank you. I don't drink unless there is occasion to do so."

"I find it occasion enough," he continued with a small smirk. "Do have some."

"Ask Hannah to," she snapped, her heart pitter-pattering as he shrugged and turned away.

"If you insist," he drawled. "I'll do anything…you…want."

She giggled. He was trying to seduce her, then? What for? Although of course she wanted to be seduced quite fully and properly, she decided she was not going to be an easy one. They said she was hard-to-get, then why, by golly, she'd play hard-to-get. "Good!" she said brightly. "Could you leave me alone then?"

"Touchy," he pouted, and turned his amorous attentions (poor boy hadn't had a lay in six weeks, she remembered) to Hannah, who eagerly greeted them and threw them right back at him.

Hermione watched as they walked off hand-in-hand to some part of the huge mansion, probably to make out.

Hermione had never made out before. Okay, one teeny tiny peck on the lips sort of kiss, well, it hadn't even been that…she couldn't quite tell what Viktor had done as a goodbye. She'd been quaking with nervousness, so…and then of course, there had been that time in Switzerland. But she refused to think about it. Shaking her head slightly, she walked over to the bottle of wine that Draco had been offering her and gingerly poured herself a glass. Might as well. She did love a good Merlot every once in a while.

An hour later Draco and Hannah came back in to find a slightly tipsy Hermione stroking that red couch and murmuring to herself. She sat up abruptly when she saw them and turned beet-red. "What are you doing back so soon?" she asked, flushed. And then to distract attention from herself, she said as meanly as she could muster, "What's the matter, Draco? Couldn't keep it up long enough?"

He scowled.

Hannah started.

Hermione held up her hand. "I'm going to bed. And this Merlot… what cheap kind of brand is this! Penebleise Valley? Never heard of it! Damn the show. If they can't afford better wines then this world truly is coming to a low-point."

She departed, knowing just how confused Draco and Hannah might be. It felt good to be the… the one who was being the puzzle for a change, instead of the puzzled.

"Well," she heard Draco drawl below. "Looks like she's in a bad mood."

"Why speculate about her, Draco?" Hannah responded distantly. "I can think of much better things to do…"

Shutting the door with a slam, Hermione frowned and leaned against its heavy oak. She liked him, she really did. Every word he said… it made her… want to be with him. She hated him. He was an evil, conniving git who deserved someone like Blaise or Hannah anyway.

But she couldn't let him know. He was just playing around with her, the same way he'd played around with the other twenty-five girls here. And he was just bastard-y enough to laugh with glee if he found out just how much she fancied him.

Unhappy and depressed, Hermione snapped at a camera man who had followed her up. "Go away," she growled. "I'm about to undress."

"Any words?" the little snot asked greedily. "Any… accusations against Hannah?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know you want the... I hate Hannah! Oh, my, gosh, she is the world's biggest bitch ever. She totally stole my man!... routine, but I'm not going to give it to you."

He grinned. "You just did, sugar," and walked off hurriedly before she could castrate him.

Hermione mumbled an expletive in his direction but otherwise slumped down onto her bed. There was no point in following him anyway, and it was just too much effort to actually have to kill him, then hide the body, and then think of an alibi. She had already degraded herself enough by simply participating on the show. What would one more little incident do? The public's opinion of Hermione Granger, Potions Biochemist and Transfiguration Major, owner of Granger Labs and four-time winner of Scientist of the Year, had already changed.

Now she was Hermione Granger, Participant on The Bachelor, Girl Who Vied for Marrying Draco Lucius (maybe, she didn't know what the idiot's middle name was) Malfoy, and Girl Who Actually Fell For The Bastard.

Hannah probably didn't even fancy him as much as Hermione did. He was smart. Ooh, he was smart. He liked plants and reading. If there was one regret Hermione had, it was not studying Herbology after Hogwarts. She loved the magical plants; he would be absolutely fantastic to discuss it all with.

Too bad.

Just as she changed for the night and was ready to turn off the lights, Hannah stepped into the room, her face happy and bubbly. "Hermione," she crowed happily.

"I'm very tired, Hannah," Hermione said as miserably as she could muster. "Perhaps some other time you can tell me just how Draco Malfoy snogs a girl."

"Oh, it was fantastic! Scratch that, marvelous! The best snog I've had in years."

Hermione rolled over and turned off the lights, but that didn't shake Hannah off. Hermione fell asleep to Hannah droning on and on. "…and then he said that I looked lovely… and we got to third base. Can you believe that! Third base! Almost a shag!"

"Mmm" mumbled Hermione. "Shut up."

"Bloody hell. Haven't felt this good in ages," Hannah sighed happily. Just when Hermione thought that Hannah was drifting off, she was flooded by that voice again. "Hermione? Do you think he's my soul mate? Oh god. I've found my soul mate. I know I have. Jesus! I'm tingling! Hermione! He's my soul mate! My soul mate, damn it, my _soul mate_!"

Sleep was out of the question. If soul mates were preventing her from sleeping, then life was tougher than she thought. "Hannah!" she seethed. "It is one a.m. I'm really tired. I know, I know, it's absolutely silly of me to be sleepy at one, abnormal as it is… but can you just accept it and have a soul mate discussion in the morning?" she snapped.

Hannah blinked.

Hermione groaned.

"So, anyway, yeah… oh, gosh. Do you really think he's my soul mate? How many girls can say they met their soul mate through a TV show? Isn't that freaking cool!"

Needless to say, Hermione woke up the next morning an absolute mess. Her hair was worse than normal, she was sure she had tea bags planted firmly under her eyes, and her head pounded in misery, aching for a more peaceful sleep. "Gah," she muttered as she made her way over to her suitcase for emergency Pepper-Up potion. Never travel without the stuff, she reminded herself, just in case sleep was once again denied in her future thanks to a discussion about whether Draco Malfoy was Hannah's soul mate or not.

Hannah was bright and chipper, on the other hand. "Hermione," she said, and her voice seemed to ooze with happiness. "I'm excited. Tomorrow… tomorrow we're going to go visit his mansion! Am I visiting first or are you?"

Hermione shrugged. "Kathy will probably waltz in any second and tell us. She's got a nasty habit of doing so," she continued, frankly expressing her dislike of the ex-Malfoy. "I really hate that woman."

In response to Hermione's outburst, Hannah's eyes grew wide and she stared. "Really?" she giggled. "Why?"

"Because," she responded glumly. "She's so annoying. And she expects us to think her damned nephew is the next Prince Charles or something."

"Prince Charles is dreamy, isn't he?" Hannah said, still giggling.

"Oh, Hannah!" Hermione sighed. _Whatever floats your boat…_ "He's _old_! And anyway, I thought you felt that way about Draco!"

"I do! It's okay to feel that way about lots of people, Hermione, but you only have one soul mate. And he's so mine. Isn't he? You can tell. Blonde goes so well with brunette. Lurrrrrve it!" Hannah had begun to apply make up as she gossiped. "I'm so totally excited. What do you think I should say to him, advice counselor?"

"Look," Hermione replied, deftly avoiding a spray of perfume (going right for the eye there, that was!). "It's not just…I'm a brunette, too," she finally finished up nervously, hoping Hannah would understand the implications that well, her brunette hair went well with his blonde (she hoped).

"Oh," Hannah frowned, turning to look at Hermione, and Hermione had to quickly side step a jabbing eyeliner (Sweet Merlin! T'was a war zone!). "So you are…oh my gosh! You want to go blonde, don't you?!"

Well, so much for that. Hannah obviously didn't understand. "No, no," Hermione soothed. "Not at all… I don't believe in dying your hair… one should always love what she has! I mean, unless your hair is turning gre—"

But she was cut off by a super excited Hannah. "It's okay, Hermione. Nonsense! Embrace your inner blonde! I was a blonde just a few months ago. It's amazing. Blondes _do_ have the most fun!"

"I don't care about fun," Hermione said blankly.

"Of course you do," Hannah replied distractedly as she began to frantically comb the room for something or the other. "Aha, got it!" She pulled out her wand and Hermione's heart began to race.

"Um," she began cleverly, "what are you doing?"

"Just hold tight for a minute. Remembering the spell… it'll come to me…"

Hermione shrank towards a wall. "Hannah…" she warned.

But her words were useless. Hannah turned to her, eyes blazing, and before Hermione could react or respond, she shouted. "Hold still now! I've got it! _Auricomus__ Alterteratum_!"

Hermione closed her eyes as bile rose up in her throat. Oh dear, Hannah was going to kill her with some stupid spell gone awry… it was going to be in the papers… "Top Scientist Tragically Killed by False Make-Up Spell"… what a way to go…how depressing!

Suddenly it was all quiet. Hermione opened her eyes cautiously and examined her hands. Ten fingers? Check. Her eyes traveled upwards. Two arms? Check. Torso? Check. Neck? Check. Face? Check. Hair? Check. She looked up and Hannah was beaming at her.

"You. Look. Stunning. Ravishing. Fantastic." She stated gleefully. "Come see! Come see, come see, come see! You will love it!"

Cautiously Hermione stepped in front of the mirror.

And shrieked.

"MY HAIR!" she moaned. "MY HAIR MY HAIR MY HAIR! Hannah what in Merlin have you done to it!"

"Lovely, isn't it?" Hannah replied fondly. "I swear, even Draco Malfoy will find you undoubtedly attractive."

"What spell did you use?" Hermione demanded in frustration and anger, fingering her now blonde…and not only blonde, platinum, _yellowy_ blonde!...locks and wanting to yank them out.

"Only _the_ spell that every witch should know. That and… hee… I can't say, the other one's really dirty. But quite pleasurable," Hannah chuckled.

"I don't care, I don't care," Hermione mumbled unhappily as she racked her brains for a spell to reverse it… what had Hannah said? She grabbed Hannah's wand in desperation and forced it to reveal its last spell… ah.

In a few minutes, Hermione was back to normal; perfectly brown-haired again. Shooting a dirty look at the wand, she fingered the brown locks and breathed in a sigh of relief. Her heart was still pounding from the momentary shock, however. "I hate you," she snarled at Hannah, who looked hurt.

"Just trying to help, Hermione! You know you looked much better as a blonde. It hides your huge nose and shows off your otherwise small eyes."

"Just shut up!" Hermione groaned. She hated to be so rude, but Hannah had crossed the limit. "I was trying to make a point, and you go dye my hair blonde! How thick can you get!"

Hannah sniffled. "You know. All I wanted to do was help. But if you can't even take that, then just go screw yourself. You little bi—"

"—tch," Hermione finished muttering under her breath. "Whatever. I tried to explain it to you. You keep assuming I'm just some cow sitting here waiting for the show to end. Well I've been here six weeks and you know what? I'm just as anxious as you! I too have kissed Draco, okay?"

Hannah's voice, which seemed to get squeakier as she got more excited, positively resembled a mouse. "You did?" she whispered. "Was it awkward? I bet it was. He isn't _your_ soul mate," she spat.

"Yeah well I'm not dumb enough to believe he is," Hermione replied venomously.

"Did you just call me dumb?" Hannah's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"So what if I did," Hermione threw her hands up in the air. She was fed up of this whole thing. All this trouble for one boy. It was ridiculous yet riveting at the same time. Interesting and horrible. Paradox. Damn.

"Then…then, ok, Hermione, you wanna play games?" Hannah asked coolly, which seemed a marvelous feat for the hot-headed young girl.

"Maybe you think you're playing games," Hermione responded, noticing how silly the situation was. Preposterous, even. "But you can't handle it."

"Oh is that what you think? Is it? Is it? You want a piece of me? Cuz watch out, bitch, you're going to get it."

Hermione stepped back. Hannah was taking this a bit too seriously, wasn't she?

"You think you can get Draco?" Hannah continued, every word of her rant serious and deadly. Except that it was a very high-pitched serious and deadly. "You think so? Well, you're nothing compared to me. You know he's going to pick me. Totally."

Hermione stumbled on her words. "Excuse me? He doesn't even like you! He personally told me!" Okay, so it was a lie. But whatever. The situation called for it.

"Uh-uh. I'm not taking this. From now on, Miss Hermione Granger, it's war. W-A-R-R. War."

Hermione giggled, swore, and frowned in the same three seconds. "All right," she finally said. "You're on."

_What_ had she gotten herself into?

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long. Guys, I know you want the next chapter, but death threats? Um, sorry. I'm too lazy to respond to those. I had final exams, for those of you who don't check my bio—by the way, if you ever want to know any update info, if something unusual is going on, I'll put it in my bio! To answer your questions, though, does this all really happen in the show? Not sure. I myself have watched one season of it (Andrew and Jen), found it utterly ridiculous and somehow humorous, and then decided to make fun of it.

Let's see…thanks so much for your awesome reviews though. They were really fantastic. Once again, leave your e-mail if you want the e-mail update, okay? Well, that's all for now. Apologizing for the shortness of the chapter, but I have writer's block.

As for Hannah's meanness, well, yes, she was a Hufflepuff, but people change. And if Hannah gets antsy when it comes to boys, then so be it.


	14. Alacrity

The Bachelor Chapter 14

A/N: For everyone who asked if Hermione was going to remain a blonde, I say, no, she changed herself back shortly after Hannah did the deed. If you read closely you will see that it says that. Well, anyway, on to the next chapter!

"Hermione! Ron, shut up, I'm trying to talk to her—"

"Harry please, hey Hermione, I can't believe you're stuck there with that—"

"—Ron, _I'm_ talking to her, hey, we can't believe you're actually still there with that sodding—"

"—snot ragged—"

"—horrendous, blubbering, womanizing prat—"

"—No fair, Harry, I wanted to say that—"

Hermione smiled as she listened to the voices emitting from her WizMobile (a very hi-tech new mobile that wizards in the Muggle Artifacts department of the Ministry of Magic had come up with; so far it had been incredibly successful and as a result the Weasleys had benefited greatly). It was her first time talking to the boys since she'd been here, and apparently they had been following the show. Er, obsessed with was more like it.

"Boys," she finally said, after they had gone through three minutes more of Draco bashing, "he's really not that bad."

"Awful, smelly, prick—wait, what?! Harry, did you hear that?!" Ron gasped from the other line.

"Hermione," Harry's voice came through, sounding anxious. "Not that bad? But, but you should see him on TV! When they do those little interviews and stuff, he says the _meanest_ things about the girls!"

"Really?" Hermione's mouth turned down into a frown and her heart clenched with the knowledge. What did he dare say about them? "Like what?" she asked.

"Like that girl in the beginning, the really hot one, what was her name? Something with an A, Amber, Ally…oh, Albany, thanks Harry, yeah, he called her a nipple-clamp girl! A nipple-clamp! They had to edit that out on TV, sodding idiot doesn't know you've got to keep it clean for prime time WizTV… by the way did you know this show has one of the highest ratings? Right up there with Harry Potter Adventures and Extreme Quidditch!"

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, well, what he said was true… you remember that bikini she was wearing? Hardly covered a thing! Most indecent!"

Harry agreed. "It was, it was, but still… he could have been a little nicer. And as for Millicent, he didn't like her at all, admitted right on TV that he thought she was a bit… too strong, he said, but he was terrified of her, you could tell… oh but the real reason we wanted to talk to you…"

Her heart beat quickened. "Well, what is it?" she questioned calmly, never letting any of her anxiety drip into her voice.

"He," Ron began in indignation, "is using you for advice?"

She sighed. "Well… you know when I first got there, we were most, ah, opposed to the situation, but as time went on, you know… boys, I think he's a pretty okay guy once you get to know him."

She could practically see Harry rolling his eyes. "Hermione, this is Malfoy we're talking about! Malfoy!" one of them sputtered.

"I know. I know! But you aren't here with him. He's nice, and he's quite smart, actually. He knows more magical botany than I do! Almost as much as Neville, I'd think… and… well, he doesn't seem too shallow, although I know he uses the girls for a quick snog every now and then…oh, hey," she said, getting worried, "does he shag them too?"

There was silence. Then after a moment, Ron finally spoke. "You know what, mate," he said to Harry, "I reckon she fancies him."

Hermione nearly choked on her air. To put it out in the open like that! "I do not!" she protested fiercely, although she knew it was no use.

"You do too," Harry said slowly. "Of course you do! Your actions show it on the show, too! You're always very polite but distant when they ask you about him! OH MY GOSH! You like him! Ron, Ron, he has to pick her… I'm going to beat that bastard to a bloody pulp if he doesn't pick her…"

"Of course he'll pick her, what is he, an idiot? Well, yes, but… still the other one's a total bimbo, just yesterday she told us her great plan to get Hermione!"

Hermione held her breath. "What was it?" she finally asked. "Oh, don't tell me, she's going to put water in my hair gel so my hair will frizz," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, how'd you know?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Hermione laughed. "It was just a guess. But thanks for the warning; I'll be sure to spell my hair instead of using that gel. So… um, guys," she stumbled, wanting to ask a very important question, "what does Draco say about me?"

"Ah, there it comes," Ron commented. "I knew it was coming. Knew it."

"He's generally the same way you are. He's distant and polite. He really won't tell us who he fancies more, you or Hannah… actually I don't know if he fancies eith—I mean, I'm _sure_ he fancies you, Hermione, although he won't let on."

A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Harry was going to say that he wasn't sure Draco liked either of them… but he'd broken it off in an effort not to hurt her feelings. "Look," she found herself saying, "I have to go, Hannah's probably vandalizing my hair dryer, you know, gotta catch her… and I have to pack, I'm leaving tomorrow to go visit his house… enjoy the show, boys."

"Oh, we will. Good luck!"

"—what do you mean, good luck? Of course she'll get him! And if she doesn't, he won't be around to be available anyway, I'm aching to hurt that ferret…"

Hermione heard the click of the receiver and sighed to herself. It had been good to talk to Harry and Ron, good to hear their opinions (albeit slightly biased opinions), good to see how life was back home.

And in a week, she'd be back home. Either with Draco, or without.

With new resolve, she packed her suitcase and charmed it, just to make sure Hannah didn't go and replace her robes with sizes much too big or some other act like that. Just then, the girl in question walked into the room with a frown on her face.

"Hermione," she began, "you didn't take my face cream, did you? I can't find it anywhere and I'm leaving in five minutes to go meet Draco's parents."

"No, Hannah," Hermione replied, genuinely surprised, "I've been on the phone the whole morning. I've no idea where it is."

"I don't believe you," Hannah growled. "I simply don't believe you."

"Then don't," came Hermione's cross retort. "What would I do with your smelly bat guano face cream anyway?"

"Excuse me! It cost thirty two galleons! And it's from the caves of east Calgary, so it's the best guano available. I'm sure you couldn't afford it."

"And I'm sure that's because my complexion is clear enough without it," Hermione said dangerously. "Now get out, if you're going to be rude. Seriously, Hannah," she appealed, deciding to make one last try before she gave up, "let's not play these games. They're so silly. I mean, fighting over a boy that might not necessarily like either of us? Honestly!"

Hannah stopped abruptly. "What do you mean, not necessarily like either of us?" she asked in a tight voice. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I'm serious," Hermione answered resignedly. "That's what he said on TV, according to Ron and Harry, and they've been following the show. It's Live, and a very popular show on the telly, so I'd really believe them."

"But he told me he likes me!" came Hannah's strangled reply. "Oh, gosh, Hermione, what are we going to do? He has to like at least one of us! I mean of course I want it to be me, but… but he can't just like nobody! Oh my gosh! He's… he's one of those… planty things! He's _asexual_!"

Hermione stifled a giggle. "Just because he might not be interested in you or me, doesn't mean he's not interested in anyone, Hannah," she explained. "Anyway, go pack, because he'll be here in like, a minute, and you want to be ready, don't you?"

Hannah gasped and bounded out of the room. "Thanks for the warning, Hermione!" she called over her shoulder. "Laters!"

With a last look at Hannah's bobbing blonde head, Hermione turned to something she'd neglected for a while: reading. Unfortunately reading _The Enemies Tryst_ had sparked some sort of awakening in Hermione.

She was hopelessly addicted to trashy romance novels.

A secret she was going to keep very, very quiet. It wouldn't do to have the scientific world know that Hermione was stuffing novels with titles such as _Summer Sensuality_ and _Flirting with Devils_ and _Under the Blanket_ in her attic.

Hermione spent the day reading and at night had a quick dinner alone. Just as she was finishing up, who else but a woman that Hermione utterly disliked entered the room. Kathy M. Silver herself.

"Hermione, dear!" she exclaimed in an oily voice.

"Kathy," Hermione acknowledged as formally as possible.

"How are you?" Kathy asked, conjuring up a chair and sitting down next to Hermione. Hermione smiled faintly. She wasn't really in the mood for small talk, especially with a manipulative woman like Ms. Silver right here in front of her.

"Absolutely divine," Hermione answered politely. "And you?"

"Just marvelous, dearie! Are you excited about visiting Draco's family?" Kathy asked. Hermione knew she had to be careful with her response. After all, Kathy was related somehow to the Malfoys.

"Yes," she replied, "I look forward to seeing the Manor."

"I'm sure Hannah is having a lovely time there, don't you think?" Kathy asked, boring her eyes into Hermione.

That was when Hermione finally noticed the cameras. Ah, another thing for the however million viewers who were currently watching this and laughing at her. And rooting for Hannah (Ron had informed her that Hannah did seem to have a very sweet disposition on camera). "I'm sure she is," Hermione agreed. "Hannah deserves it. She's a very nice girl."

Take that. You don't fight fire with fire, you fight fire with water, and Hermione knew that "w-a-r-r" wasn't going to work. She just wouldn't participate. So what if Hannah disposed of some of Hermione's beauty products? She could live with petty things like that!

Having taken care of the battle between the two, Hermione excused herself from Kathy and The Cameras and went upstairs to finish off _Under the Blanket_, and wait for the next day to come.

The next morning dawned clear and at nine Hannah came home looking pleased. "I think I impressed Lucius, but I don't know. Narcissa didn't say much. She's the quiet type," she said quickly. "The house is so gorge. If I live there I know just how I'm going to do up all the rooms! It's going to be beautiful!"

In the afternoon Draco came by and Hermione nervously opened up the door for him. "Hey," she began.

"Hello," he smiled faintly. "Got your things? We'll just apparate into a nearby village—there are anti-apparation charms all over the house, and from there we can just ride some brooms, my dad owns this fantastic broom shop."

Hermione's stomach swooped. "Ride? Brooms?" she echoed. "I don't…well, what I mean to say is that, I can't…well, I don't…" she trailed off suddenly very anxious and miserable.

He grinned. "Don't ride, I take it?"

She grimaced. "Well, no, not really…can't we just, I dunno, walk there?"

"Walk?" He laughed. "Wait till you get there. You won't be walking, Hermione, because the manor is absolutely huge."

She half-scowled and half-sighed, then followed his apparating directions and soon they were in the "village". "Village my foot!" she gasped. "It's like a city."

"Yeah, I told you," he teased. "Come on, there's the shop!"

She followed him nervously into the expensive broom shop. "Mr. Malfoy!" the man behind the desk exclaimed. "Two brooms, I expect?"

"Yes. Make them, hmmm… any particular one you want to ride, Hermione?" he asked. Hermione wondered if he was genuinely interested in the kind of broom she would want to ride (hah! Like she would know!) or whether he was just being polite and cordial. Oh, she had never felt so nervous around a member of the male species!

"Um… you know, the last broom I ever really kept track of was the Firebolt…so, um, I'm guessing that's a bit out of date, right?"

The shopkeeper grinned. "I'm sorry ma'am, we really don't keep older brooms, unless they're classics like the Cleansweep series. The oldest one we've got is a Lightningbolt 360, and even those are pretty rare. Well then, Mr. Malfoy, it seems the lady doesn't know, what will it be?"

Draco gave Hermione a sly smile and turned to the shopkeeper. "Two Speedtwisters, please."

"Fastest broom there ever was," the shopkeeper remarked as he pulled out two very polished and posh looking brooms.

Hermione was sure she turned slightly green.

Draco led them out of the shop and quickly mounted his broom. He took off and Hermione stared at him, helpless. A few seconds later he turned around and looked at her pointedly. "Come on! I didn't know you weren't following me!"

"Look, Draco," she began awkwardly, and then decided to just say it. "The truth is, I don't know how to ride a broom. I just don't."

He gaped at her incredulously. "But… you're joking! You're best friends with Potter and Weasley… I mean, they love Quidditch, don't they? And riding a broom… everyone knows how…"

Hermione glared at him.

"Hey, no problem," he said quickly, glancing at her expression with amusement, "I'll teach you. It's very easy."

He flew down smoothly to the ground, dismounted his broom and made his way over to her. "Okay," he said, first you have to command it. You have to show off your control." His voice was low. Hermione trembled with anticipation, and then cursed herself for caring. How did it matter if his voice was low and sensual and alluring and… stop it, she instructed herself firmly. Just stop it.

"Take your hand out and say 'up'… here, like this." He placed his hand over hers, and Hermione completely forgot about anything surrounding a broom. She inhaled a sharp breath and instead concentrated on the feel of smooth long fingers against her own shorter ones. Just when she had delved into innumerable fantasies pulled right out of those romance novels, a hard shaft popped into her hand. Oh, the broom. It had worked, unfortunately.

"Now what?" she asked softly.

"Now mount it. Get on the broom… there you go, that's right," came the reassurance from his sexy voice.

"I think I'm going to fall off," she whispered with a giggle. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can… oh, look here," he mounted the broom and motioned for her to sit behind him. "Now hold on to me… not too tight, yeah that's fine right there, and just feel this feeling. It's amazing."

And it certainly was. Although Hermione was fairly sure he was referring to the feeling of whooshing through the air, she rather enjoyed the whole put-your-arms-around-me bit. His body was warm against the cool air and it was really, really hard to not have indecent thoughts about a certain blond haired beautiful man in front of her, especially after reading detailed accounts of such instances in romance novels.

Fortunately or unfortunately, she couldn't tell, they soon reached Malfoy Manor. Even though Hannah had mentioned the sheer size of the mansion, Hermione hadn't prepared herself enough. It was massive. No, not massive, _horrendously_ massive. "Wow," she said to herself, but Draco overheard.

"Yeah, it's pretty big. That's why I'm not moving out on my own; I'll just get my own wing or two."

Hermione laughed. "You know, you really don't seem the type of guy that lives with his parents."

"Oh please," he replied, looking hurt, "I do not live with them. I barely see them. They only occupy the east wing of this place, and my father is giving me ownership of the mansion for my birthday."

"More of the my-father-gets-me-what-I-want-routine," Hermione commented lightly. "Always, Draco… daddy's little boy, huh? Always gotten what you wanted?"

He looked angry for a moment. "No," he finally said, tight-lipped. "Not always."

He led her into the mansion, through elaborate gardens, a huge sprawling pool, sauna, and hot tub, and a gazebo (for small parties, Draco informed her). Waiting for them was Narcissa Malfoy. "Hello," she greeted them warmly. "You must be Hermione."

Hermione smiled and graciously took the woman's regal hand. "Yes. Thank you for letting me visit today."

"Oh, it's no problem… we're…well, I'm so excited that Draco's finally listened to me and looked for a proper girlfriend, maybe even use of the big M word, right Draco?"

Draco seemed to ignore his mother. She went on anyway. "So it was just lovely to have you two girls visit; Draco's final two! He must really like you."

Hermione smiled and looked over at Draco who mumbled something about this being rather awkward and escaped to the bathroom.

"Well, come on in," Narcissa continued her fresh chatter and led Hermione into one of the drawing rooms. "Lucius should be down any second… pardon him if he's a bit… impolite, being under house arrest really does not suit one of his personality."

Hermione nodded. Lucius Malfoy had been placed on house-arrest back when the Death Eater trials had been going on quite a few years ago. "So tell me," Narcissa began excitedly. "Do you really fancy my son?"

Hermione knew she had to word her answer carefully. No mother wanted anything bad said about her son; at the same time, she didn't want to sound desperate or anything. "That's why I'm here, isn't it," she finally joked. "No, but seriously, he's a very learned man."

Narcissa nodded. "He always did love school. Very bright. A bit jealous, however, of a certain girl who always got ahead of him in his schoolwork, and if I recall correctly, that would be you?"

Of course this had to come up. "Well, er, I hadn't been aware that he was second in the class at that time… if so I'd probably have arranged a study group with him (who was she kidding? As if! Harry and Ron wouldn't have let her near him!)."

"Oh, well isn't that lovely," Narcissa schmoozed. "Oh, here's Lucius!"

Lucius walked regally into the study and sat down. "The other one?" he asked Narcissa, who nodded. "So you must be Hermione Granger. I remember you."

Hermione couldn't help but feel terrified of this man. He was awfully dangerous, and… and he had a thing against people of muggle descent… and what if he killed her or something and they couldn't find her body and then…then she remembered that she was indeed on a television show, the cameras were right here, taping away, and he wasn't going to be able to do anything because he was under house-arrest for the rest of his life. "Er, yes," she at last said. "You're looking well," she finally began uncomfortably.

Lucius looked grim. "I see you are interested in wedding my son?" he finally asked.

Hermione paled. "Well," she started diplomatically, "Marriage is a big step. This show is a little over six weeks long, and in the occasion that Draco does, er, pick me, I would insist on a long engagement just so we could know if we're truly suited to each other, because I believe that there is no way to assess complete compatibility on a television show."

It was silent for a moment, and then came Lucius' grim voice. "Well said, Miss Granger. Well said. Narcissa, have the cooks fixed up dinner?"

His comment effectively lightened the mood. "Oh, yes, I'll have them serve it right away. Jean Claude!" she called and hurried off to the kitchen.

Although Hermione was fairly sure she'd at least gotten the grudging respect of Lucius, she didn't exactly want to be left alone with him. Luckily, at that instant that Hermione was about to ask for the restroom, Draco walked into the room. "Father," he greeted Lucius. "I see you've met Hermione."

"Yes," came Lucius' derisive reply. "Now I believe your mother is waiting for us in the dining hall. Shall we?"

Hermione traipsed after Draco and his father into the dining hall, which was spectacularly decorated. "It's beautiful," she breathed. "Who thought of the idea of having Shakespeare's works magically swirl round the ceiling?"

Narcissa smiled softly. "I designed most of the decorations in this place," she said modestly.

"They're absolutely exquisite," Hermione praised sincerely. "Beautiful. If I were ever to move in here, I wouldn't change a thing!"

Narcissa laughed. "After yesterday's guest… Hannah… I'd thought my designs were truly outdated. She seemed eager to change them, didn't she, Lucius?"

Lucius agreed with his wife. "She did."

Although Hermione was interested to know what the Malfoys thought of Hannah, Lucius seemed keen on keeping silent throughout the meal. Narcissa, however, nattered away and asked Hermione many questions about growing up in a muggle home.

"You know," she happily stated, "I always wanted to know what it was like in a muggle home. We've heard so many rumors… but the truth is, Lucius and I have never seen a muggle house!"

"It's quite different," Hermione conceded, "Things don't just move… everything's very stationary. But then we also have some things that wizarding homes don't… like electricity."

"I've heard of that," Lucius looked up, surprised. "It's supposed to be very ingenious."

The rest of the dinner conversation revolved around muggle technology, and although Lucius looked awfully skeptical and tried to keep putting on a bored face, Hermione was pretty sure he was generally interested. Narcissa of course wanted to know how muggle homes looked. Hermione was sure the woman would make an excellent interior decorator, if she were ever given the chance to work.

Draco remained silent throughout dinner, only speaking when directly spoken to. After dinner, they sipped some dessert wine and then Draco claimed that he was exhausted and he was going to bed. "Come on," he said to Hermione, "I'll show you your room."

Hermione followed him out through spiraling staircases and long corridors before they finally reached a large guest room. "Well, here you are. If you need anything, my room's just down this corridor."

"Thanks," she replied. "Hey… thanks for dinner and everything. Your parents… aren't what I expected."

He cracked a smile. "Yeah. Dad's changed a lot since he's been under house-arrest. A lot calmer about things. He's always reading and stuff too; I guess he wants to keep up appearances about being very intelligent."

Hermione decided now was a time for compliments. "Well, he's succeeding," she gushed.

"Hey… I guess I should've told you earlier, but you look really pretty tonight."

She melted. She hated when he did this, well, hated it and loved it too, but it spun her out of control and all she ever wanted was control. She knew that in a relationship with this man, she could forget about having control… but… "Thank you."

And then he kissed her, and it was exactly like last time. Brilliant and unimaginably wonderful. They tumbled onto the bed and somewhere Hermione was protesting but pheromones raged and she couldn't help but notice his slender hands, his pale neck, his aristocratic nose.

A good snog session later, Hermione was pushing him off. She'd battled and battled and decided she wasn't about to shag him; it might make her look tawdry because she wasn't even sure if he was going to pick her. In fact, she was quite worried he wouldn't. "Enough," she stated firmly. "I don't want to go any further."

Lips swollen from kissing he slid off and walked away. "Okay. I respect that." And then a moment later, as he was stepping out, "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night."

She got dressed for bed, slid in, turned off the lights and dreamed of laughter in the halls of Malfoy Manor.

The next morning, she was woken by a house-elf and within the hour was back with Hannah. Hannah squealed when she saw her. "Didn't you just love it?" she prodded in anticipation.

"Yes, it was really nice," she finally said. "Look, you know that the… thing is tonight. Let's just hang out alone today."

Hannah agreed. "We should keep in touch after the show, right?"

Hermione felt pained. "Um, yeah, sure, whatever," she finally just said in a rush and went up to her room.

She spent the day working on some scientific research she hadn't touched in weeks. It was difficult work and it took her mind off of the impending ceremony, in which Draco would reject one of them and propose to the other (or so was planned; it was perfectly possible he would reject both of them).

She wouldn't see Hannah again unless she wanted to after the show; because they would both meet Draco separately and privately (except for the whole this was on prime television bit) where he would inform them of his decision. They wouldn't even know who met him first, so she'd be completely in the dark until she actually got there and spoke to him.

Finally evening approached. Nervously, Hermione donned a very pretty pair of robes, nice heels, and added a slight touch of enhancing make up to her face. She even used Sleek-easy potion on her hair, although it was rather time consuming. An hour later she found herself seated in a limousine making her way over to Draco Malfoy. She was undeniably nervous. What if he didn't pick her? He knew she liked him; she'd let him kiss her more than once, and he was always dodgy between the two of them.

It was best not to think about it. Anyway, Harry and Ron had promised to kill him if he didn't pick her.

Never mind if that sounded awfully desperate.

And before she knew it, they were there. She didn't know if Hannah had already seen him or if she was the first one to meet him that evening. She stepped out of the limo and made her way to where he was standing amid roses and candles. Very pretty, but she hardly noticed the décor; her heart was pumping much too fast.

"Hey," he said softly when he saw her.

"Hey," she responded just as softly.

"Well, I might as well get started," he lightly began. He clasped her hands within his. She tingled. "Look… when this show began…I was really pissed off that you were here."

She laughed. "The feeling was mutual, I assure you."

"And… I originally kept you because I was mad and you know, wanted to just bother you a bit and stuff… and then we had a while where we really didn't like each other. I still remember that awful thing you did to my hair!"

"And I still remember that stunt at L'Acqua," she teased.

"So I guess we're even. But… what I'm trying to say is, Hermione, my… feelings towards you have really changed. I'm…closer to you and there's a connection…and I mean, it's really nice but what I'm trying to say is—" He paused. She noted that he looked incredibly nervous.

"I think that this is going to be brill—no, I mean, okay, well… while it's been fun on the show," he suddenly said, his words coming much easier, "I just don't know if it's going to work later on, with all the, you know, history behind us. And that's why I'm going to pick Hannah. It's just going to be easier. Thank you, Hermione, for sticking on the show. I hope we can be friends when it's all blown over, because as I said, I think we get along much better now."

In the middle of the speech, Hermione thought hauntingly, he had changed his mind. She refused to let herself cry in front of him. Summoning up any strength that she had after she had been so thoroughly shattered, she spoke. "Yes. I do think so as well," she said icily. "But I don't think we can be friends. You said it yourself. There's just too much history."

And with that, she spun on her heel and walked back to the car. Not quickly. Not in pain. Head held high and back perfectly straight, she made sure she looked every bit as aristocratic as she could finally muster.

Only when she got into the car did she let the tears fall.

A/N: Ok, I've noticed that when other authors don't put Draco and Hermione together for the moment, they get tons of hate reviews and really rude comments and like, death threats and stuff… so the only thing I'm going to say is, please don't kill me!

It's not over yet, I promise. There IS more. I'm working on it. This took me a long time to write, and it was really difficult to write, so I hope that people do look at the overall thing instead of the ending and just flame me for that!

Oh, and as for why do all the chapters start with the letter A, as many people asked, I dunno why. I just felt like it, I guess.

Anyway, thanks for your brilliant reviews, as usual. Once again, leave an e-mail for an e-mail update.


	15. Adaptations

The Bachelor Chapter 15

One month had passed since the show. The thought randomly popped into Hermione's mind as she slaved over a new potion that she had thrown herself into shortly after her return.

Exhausted, she looked around the comfortable lab. Around her, employees and co-workers scuttled around busily, tending to all the different potions that were being developed. Hermione briefly wondered if Professor Snape had ever considered a career in a potions lab. Now normally, Hermione was the one sitting in the office tending to business aspects, but today she'd decided to do some much needed work in the lab.

Namely, she wanted to get her thoughts off the past and focused into tasks in front of her. It had been an entire month, and still, every single day, she would remember at least three things about _him_.

"Hermione," someone called, pulling her out of her silly little reverie.

"Hmm?" she looked up. Edel Voss, her junior assistant, was sending her an odd look.

"It's two o' clock, Saturday afternoon. You know we close early on Saturdays. And you never come to work on Saturday anyway! Why have you been throwing yourself into all of this lately?"

Lucky for her Edel didn't watch television. "Oh right," Hermione grinned sheepishly, deciding to evade his question. "I'll just pack up and go on home. Have a good one, Edel. Say hi to the wife for me, okay? And tell little Jennifer that as promised, I will give her a tour of the potions lab…umm, next week should be good."

"Will do," Edel smiled back at her.

As promised, Hermione packed up, slowly, methodically, because her thoughts were once again wrapped around a blonde haired Slytherin—not literally, mind you. She hadn't heard from him since the show, and she supposed that that was the best approach anyhow.

She'd tried the rebound.

She really had. She'd agreed to set-ups at the hands of Harry and Ron, something she _never_ wanted to experience again. It was like a repeat performance of the dates of pre-Bachelor era. After going through countless chews-with-his-mouth-opens, too-full-of-himselves, smells-like-he's-been-eating-cow-dungs, and many, many more, Hermione had had enough. She'd politely declined any of Harry and Ron's future attempts at finding her a mate, pointing out that they should be spending more time on their own love lives.

Speaking of, they were actually both doing very well in that area. Ron was engaged to Luna Lovegood, something unexpected but at the same time quite brilliant. They were obviously so very much in love…and it was just as lovely as…Hermione frowned as jealousy ran its horrid little course through her.

It wasn't as if _she_ wanted to be in love and engaged and having the time of her life.

She didn't want that at all.

Not one little bit.

Harry had been dating on and off, and just a few weeks ago had bumped into Ron's younger sister Ginny. The two of them had hit it off immediately and Hermione was fairly sure that Harry was done dating on and off. He'd found The One.

And in her mind, The One was always capital.

Everyone had a "The One" somewhere. It took a lot of searching, but in the end, The One was always found.

Draco had just been a minor deterrence from her hunt for The One.

But if that was true, why did she keep thinking about him? And not in a negative way, either?

As she packed up the lab, she delved into the memory of coming home. Harry and Ron had been absolutely shocked when they'd seen the episode, which had been broadcasted live.

--------------------------------------

When she had returned home, both Harry and Ron had been waiting for her in her immaculate flat. In shock she had dropped her bags and screamed.

"It's just us, Hermione," Ron said very gently, as if she was so fragile that a loud voice could break her.

"Boys, listen," she'd begun; not really wanting to discuss what she knew was on the agenda.

"No, Hermione, we have to talk about this," Harry had stated firmly. "Just remember we love you very, very much and that you are a very…er, worthy girl, and just because that scumbag didn't choose you, doesn't mean that another man won't."

"You're very pretty and you are too good for him," Ron had added as an afterthought.

Her mouth was agape from surprise. "Please don't tell me you two are attempting a heart-to-heart girl talk with me."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. "Er, we thought you might want one," Ron finally admitted. "And honestly, we were just so shocked when he didn't pick you…"

"I honestly don't want to talk about this," Hermione repeated, slouching down onto her sofa, hoping some of its comfort would sooth her frayed nerves (and heart, although she wouldn't admit it).

"Hermione, when the cameras interviewed him before the night, he said he was very, very sure in the girl he was going to pick," Harry explained earnestly.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" she'd grumbled. "So he led me on the whole time. I can't believe I ever fancied him! What an awful, awful, _awful_ man!" She had brushed her eyes quickly, not wanting to cry in front of Harry and Ron.

"I wholeheartedly agree," Ron sympathized. "We'll kill him. We promise."

"Ron!" Harry had silenced. "Hermione," he tried again, "he was going to pick you. Everything pointed to it. He wouldn't say anything, of course, since it's bastard Malfoy after all, but honestly, he didn't like Hannah. He was really going to pick you, right up till the end. Then I suppose he fucked up."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "And that he did," she agreed. "I never want to see him again. Never. In fact I'm glad he ended it where he ended it. It would've been worse if I'd actually let myself feel for him…even love him. I'm glad I didn't."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks that Hermione could only interpret as dubious. Glaring at them she ushered them out. "I'm tired," she excused herself, "and I've had a long, miserable six weeks. I'd like some peace and quiet."

------------------------------------------

Now, Hermione realized, it had been an entire month since that conversation. In that month, she had suffered through countless blind dates, a bruised ego, and a lot of dreams about _him_. But slowly, surely, and oddly, the anger she had originally felt towards him had ebbed.

It didn't mean that she was suddenly all okay with being rejected on national television and stuck into the wizard tabloids, with headlines proclaiming, "Brains over Beauty? Not for Draco Malfoy".

That had hurt, especially since she'd only begun to appreciate him because of the way he provided some intellectual stimulation. But she'd ignored rumors in her years at Hogwarts, purposefully ignored nay-sayers when she proved that as a Muggleborn she was just as talented as any other wizard, if not more so, and she would do it now. Nobody would see her hurt. Nobody.

She unlocked her flat and entered the neat home, sighing. Dropping her things unceremoniously on a counter top, Hermione walked into her bedroom and changed into a more comfortable outfit—ironically, one of the robes she had purchased for the show. A flowing, so-light-it-was-nearly-white pink robe that she had once thought was uncomfortable had grown on her so much that it had become one of the most comfortable clothing items that she owned.

There had been other changes too. Hermione had spent a little bit more time on her looks so her features were always accentuated in the best way possible. It was minimal, but as proved the old adage, "less is more". 

She supposed it was just impossible to have lived with twenty-five superficial girls and come away from it unscathed.

There was nothing she had to do today, now that she'd been shoved out of her own workplace. Ginny had tried to set her up tonight, but she'd declined, pointing out that none of her previous attempts had worked and there was a high chance this wouldn't either. "I'll do this on my own," Hermione had said resolutely. "I brought myself into this warped situation and I will take myself out."

Hermione flipped on her television, which in the last four years had already become a staple in wizard homes. Granted, it was slightly different, emitting a soft green light (magical aura), so that the people in it had a greenish tinge, but that was all right. Wizard Broadcasting was by far the most watched channel. Then again, there were only three channels total—Daily Prophet Network, more commonly known as DPN, which offered the latest news, Quidditch Extra, popular with most members of the wizarding male species (especially as it offered such shows such as Extreme Quidditch and Quidditch Idol), and then of course Wizard Broadcasting, which appealed to all ages with shows ranging from Harry Potter Adventures, popular with the under-twelve set, and Steamy Spells, which really appealed to those who had, er, vivid imaginations.

And then of course, there was The Bachelor, Wizard Broadcasting's most popular show, but Hermione didn't want to think about it.

An announcement on Wizard Broadcasting caught her attention and brought her back to the present. "And now, a WizTV first! Yes, the event that we've all been looking forward to…the much-awaited wedding of our Bachelor couple, televised for you all to see! Draco Malfoy, son of the influential Lucius Malfoy and social butterfly Narcissa Malfoy marries Hannah Abbott, a beautiful high-class debutante, daughter of the prominent Ellen Abbott and her husband, Daniel Abbott…"

Hermione froze. Her hand gripped the remote so tightly that she was afraid it would crack. They were getting married?!

Of course they were getting married. For the first two weeks after she'd returned, Hermione had refused to even think about what Draco and Hannah's future was, but slowly she'd let herself imagine it. She just hadn't expected it to be so soon.

As she stared at the scene in front of her, the wedding preparations were being made. Up came an interview with Hannah. "I'm just thrilled," Hannah squealed, looking pretty in a soft yellow bathrobe (she had just stepped out of the shower and was about to don her bride gear). "It was a bit rough at first," she admitted, "but now it's lovely. Our parents approve of the match and we are just so delighted!"

Something hot and fiery raced through Hermione's veins. Some distant, logical part of her brain pinpointed it as jealousy, but right now her emotions were controlling her.

He was getting married to Hannah. One of the easiest ways to get over him had been to think that, well, at least she hadn't really been bested by Hannah. She knew he'd proposed, but some part of her just kept waiting to hear of their break-up.

It was not going to happen.

Hermione felt stinging tears in her eyes and brushed them away. Why was she so upset over this? She'd shed things over many trivial matters, but… somehow this seemed important.

How could he affect her so badly? She'd never expected her to fall so badly for a boy… and there was only one explanation. She didn't just fancy him.

She wanted him to be happy. If marrying Hannah was going to make him happy, then that was the way it was going to be.

She would be strong. She would be Hermione Granger. It was for the better, anyway, that they weren't together. He was right. It simply wouldn't work. He was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger.

And even if the rest of the world fell away, he was still Draco and she was Hermione. Hermione Malfoy even sounded strange (a lie. She thought it sounded lovely).

The truth was, she loved him, and she wanted him to be happy.

"Well," Hermione mumbled to herself, "I suppose everyone has a first love. But not everyone gets to be with him… I'll find number two," she promised herself.

Turning her attention back to the television, Hermione debated whether or not she should continue watching. It was simply emotional torture to see the man you loved wed someone else on primetime WizTV. And, not to mention, it was a long show, with the ceremony not even starting until six p.m. Right now, it was only three-thirty.

Soon she realized that she hadn't even seen a glimpse of the groom-to-be. He simply hadn't been mentioned since that moment that their wedding plans had been announced. The camera was focused on Hannah getting ready and excitedly telling the bridesmaids that the ceremony was going to be absolutely perfect.

Hermione recognized one of the bridesmaids, Eloise Midgen. She remembered that Eloise had been on the show, too, at the very beginning. Eloise didn't look sad in the least.

Then again, Eloise hadn't made it past the first round. Eloise wasn't in love with the groom. Eloise didn't have to see someone else marry him.

Grimly, Hermione turned off the television.

She didn't need to subject herself to this. Picking up her wizmobile, she slowly dialed the digits of Harry's mobile. "Hello?" he picked up.

Hermione kept silent for a moment, and then as if in slow motion hung up. She didn't know why. At first she thought an afternoon out with her friends would cure her of this melancholy, but after hearing Harry's cheery hello Hermione had suddenly decided that she couldn't see anyone today. 

She'd suffer alone.

She glanced outside and her gaze met clear blue skies. Deciding that the only way to shake the blues off was to walk in perfect weather, Hermione smiled and put on a brave face, and then stepped out, drenching herself in the warm sunshine.

----

Draco Malfoy sat outside in one of the expensive chairs placed on the lawns. The sprawling grounds belonged to a famous wizard park just outside of Hogsmeade Village. Hannah had proclaimed it utterly perfect and beautiful and "the most romantic place we could ever get married".

In all honesty, he couldn't care less. It wasn't as if Hannah was a bad match. She was quite pretty, vivacious, and friendly. His parents liked her, and although Narcissa had been very surprised when he'd picked her, she'd quickly swallowed any feelings of unease and thrown herself into wedding preparations. His father, he knew, didn't really care who he picked, so it was alright from that angle as well.

But there was one little thing that niggled constantly at the back of Draco's mind. The thought plagued him day after day, every day, and he just couldn't stop thinking about it.

She wasn't Hermione.

Hannah was great, but she wasn't Hermione. Hermione was different. Hermione was inexplicable. He hadn't let himself think about Hermione since that night…but, he decided; now he could. Draco didn't quite know how he felt for her, but judging by the fact that he thought about her everyday and regretted quite completely his last-minute decision, the feelings were strong.

He had meant to pick her. When she'd walked down that red carpet towards him, he'd felt nervous—something he'd never, in all his life, felt towards a girl (excluding pre-teen years. They just didn't count. And he'd had a very, very mild case of acne, something he would not mention even under wandpoint).

She had looked beautiful.

Even at that point, he was all for asking her. And then he'd started and he had remembered everything that had seemed to melt into the background during the show. The simple fact that he was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. He had disliked her immensely at school, and even after, he hadn't thought about her very much (save a few times when she'd received awards and he'd felt something akin to jealousy).

There was just so much history behind them. What would the rest of the people in his life say? Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Sally Anne Perks, all the Malfoy relatives, even to some extent, his parents? What would they all say to her? Would they treat her the way she deserved to be treated?

After all, marriage was permanent.

When he asked Hannah to marry him, he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting Hermione from the possible wrath of those who still believed in pureblood supremacy, those who still counted the fact that she was once a Gryffindor, those who would hold Potter and Weasley against her.

And he wasn't quite sure he wasn't one of them. He wasn't quite sure if he could forget her heritage, her family, her friends. Marriage wasn't just a joining of two people, it was a joining of two lives.

Their lives would undoubtedly clash.

A month ago, he hadn't thought about the possibility that maybe their lives would adapt. Maybe their lives would mold.

One month ago, he realized suddenly, he had been a coward. His father would sneer in disgust at the thought. Draco had rejected the girl he felt nervous around, the girl he couldn't stop thinking about, the girl that gave him a sick swoop in his stomach…because he wasn't sure he could handle it.

Now when he looked back on it, Draco felt sick that he could even do something like that.

"We'd appreciate if you gave an interview, Mr. Malfoy," someone interrupted his thoughts.

He glanced up in surprise and was unreservedly puzzled when a cameraman looked back at him steadily. "You know, for the wedding," the cameraman explained.

"Oh, right, that," Draco, who had for the first time properly allowed himself to think of Hermione, had in the process completely forgotten about the important upcoming event.

"Yes?" the cameraman prompted, positioning the camera on him.

"You know," Draco suddenly said, "I'm not getting married. I'll be right back."

Abruptly, he stood up, leaving behind a bewildered cameraman. He didn't know where Hannah was, and telling her that the wedding was off was something he was a little apprehensive about, but he wasn't going to choose the spineless, cowardly, gutless way out again. This time he would be strong.

This time he would listen to his instincts.

He combed the lawns in desperation, but there was no sign of Hannah. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Draco!"

He spun around. "Mother," he acknowledged.

"Why in the name of Merlin are you not getting ready? Your wedding is in a scant hour and a half! There is just so much to do. And with all these reporters around, it just makes it more difficult. These are the times I wish we weren't a high-profile family," she chuckled.

"Mother." Draco hadn't heard a word of what his mother had said. His thoughts were wrapped (quite literally) around Hermione. Hermione was the one girl he hadn't really done anything with on the show.

Sexist as it was, he couldn't help but think, save the best for the last.

And now he'd lost her. He'd lost the only one he had remotely cared about. He had to get her back. Even if it meant pulling the hero stunt like that blasted Potter.

"Draco? Have you been listening to me?" his mother suddenly demanded.

"No," he replied honestly, "not a word."

She looked taken aback. "What in the world are you thinking about?"

He took a deep breath. He might as well spit the truth. "Hermione."

His mother's look was one of astonishment and admonishment mixed. "Well," she frowned, "now is hardly the time to be thinking of her. You had the choice, Draco, and you picked Hannah. Please don't tell me you aren't happy with your decision."

"I'm not happy with my decision," Draco muttered. It was at times like these that he felt he truly was the spoiled brat that everyone accused him of being.

But it was different now, wasn't it? He'd realized his mistake. That was the first step, wasn't it?

His mother didn't seem to think so. "Draco," she shook her head, "You chose Hannah over Hermione. You must live with the consequences. And you know a marriage is permanent. I'd suggest you learn to like it, and forget about past mistakes."

"This is the mistake," Draco unexpectedly decided he was indeed going to go through with something, although it wasn't the marriage. "And I'm off to tell Hannah that it's not going to happen. I'm going to correct it."

He left his mother looking aghast behind him, not even waiting for a response.

Draco felt reckless as he barged into the dressing rooms. Hannah was standing there instructing some other women he didn't know on how exactly she'd like her make-up done.

Draco pitied her, but mostly, he cursed himself for doing what he was about to do. And that was breaking two women's hearts.

----

Hermione came back from her brisk walk in the warm weather feeling refreshed. It had cleared her thoughts and temporarily taken her mind off of him. She'd even bumped into her neighbor, Sam, walking his dog and the two of them had chatted for a few moments.

Sam was single. Who knew what could happen? Maybe Sam was The One.

She'd spent one month pining after Draco. It was definitely time to move on, and time to grow some courage. In fact she spontaneously settled, she would ask Sam on a date tomorrow.

With these thoughts in mind, Hermione was completely unprepared for the sight in front of her when she walked into her flat. Standing in front of her was the man she was about to forget. The man she was about to erase from her memories.

Draco Malfoy himself.

She couldn't help it. She screamed.

He looked panicked. "Hermione, I didn't mean to upset you," he began.

The Hermione Granger of old came roaring back. "Oh, that's rich," she snarled at him. "Well, you are upsetting me right now. I'd suggest you leave if you want to rectify that."

He looked downcast, and then looked up to meet her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't look away at first. It took her a good ten seconds to finally be able to pull away. "What do you want?" she finally ground out.

His answer was simple and unexpected. "You."

Her heart leapt at the word, but her mind was doubtful. She couldn't take him back. Not after what he had done to her ego. Not after a rejection on national television. "I'm not some property, _Malfoy_," she replied quietly, dangerously. Rapidly he had become Malfoy again. The Malfoy of old had risen in her eyes, just as the Hermione of old had leapt up within her. He was still that sodding nancy boy who cried for mummy and daddy when things didn't go his way. She was still the egotistical, uncompromising stubborn little girl who simply couldn't let defeat reach her.

He moved closer, and clasped her hands. She pulled away as if she were burned. "Don't touch me."

"Okay. I won't."

A part of her was surprised that he was agreeing so readily. She tried another tactic. "Get out."

"No."

In painful resignation she sat down on her couch silently, waiting for him to explain himself. He knelt on the floor in front of her and she couldn't help but think just how cheesy this whole thing was when she suddenly remembered—

"Aren't you supposed to be at your own wedding right now?!"

He looked uncomfortable. "Yes," he answered softly. "But…I called it off."

Out of all the things she possibly expected, this was not one of them. Mouth open in shock, Hermione switched on the television to confirm his story.

"We are the first to bring you this unexpected piece of news," a reporter was shouting into the television, "the wedding between Draco Malfoy and Hannah Abbott is off! Yes, that's right, the wedding is no more. And now let's switch to some comparisons that have been made with the muggle world…"

Another reporter leapt in. "Are wizards taking on a muggle trend? Many reality television couples break apart soon after they get together on their respective shows. The split between Draco and Hannah certainly seems to show that. Wizard Broadcasting has brought in a body language expert to tell us if the relationship was doomed from day one…"

Hermione turned it off and stared at Draco, still unable to say anything.

"I know," he began awkwardly, "that that's a bit unexpected…"

"You broke her heart," Hermione whispered, looking pained. "You broke her heart."

Draco's own heart swelled with appreciation for the woman in front of him. Her first thought wasn't about the two of them, it was about Hannah—and he knew that the two of them hadn't even gotten along that well.

Hermione was white. Draco Malfoy, heartbreaker. Not only had he turned her down, he'd strung Hannah along like a puppet for his sick plans. "I can't believe you."

"I didn't break her heart," Draco explained gently. "When I told her that I couldn't go through with this…she knew. While she was understandably upset, some part of her knew all along that…I didn't love her and she didn't love me."

"Of course she loved you!" Hermione cried. "You dolt! She spent so much time just moaning about you and talking about you and wanting to be with you…and she thought she was your soul mate and…"

"She was infatuated with me," Draco corrected. "That's not what love is about. Love…you have to work at love. And, Hermione, though it pains me to say this," he stopped to take a breath and Hermione's heartbeat inadvertently doubled, "I think that I…"

He trailed off. He wasn't ready to say it and she wasn't ready to hear it.

But they both knew it, and they both knew it was true. It was mutual.

"How did you get here anyway?" she changed the subject.

Draco grinned. "Through a friend of yours. He wasn't very willing to help me, though."

Hermione laughed. "Which friend?"

"A certain Harry Potter. He threatened to castrate me, or worse, call Weasley."

"Ron would kill you," Hermione agreed.

"With two crazy—I mean, protective—men like that around you, you are never going to get a boyfriend," Draco teased.

Hermione tensed. She had half-thought that Draco had come back here because he realized what an idiot he'd been and now he wanted to fix that. She was definitely not going to agree to the scheme, but what if said scheme wasn't even on his mind?

"Hermione," he soothed, as if sensing her distress, "I've come here to apologize. I never meant to…do that. I wanted to ask you."

"But you didn't," she reminded, not unkindly, her initial hatred towards him slowly seeping out. "Look, I'll get you something to eat, or drink, I feel like a bad hostess."

"I'm hardly a guest," he laughed bitterly, "I just _Alohamora_'d my way in."

Hermione was inclined to agree. "But still, if you want anything…"

"No, I'm fine," Draco reassured her. "I've got to tell you the things on my mind. I mean, whether we're discussing something silly like, I dunno, bedspreads or something like magical botany or even…this, you've always been the perfect person to converse with. You're so intelligent."

She didn't say anything, and if he'd asked her to, she wouldn't know what exactly to say. How were you supposed to respond when the man who rejected you in front of a million people came back and told you that you were intelligent and he wanted you back?

That didn't happen in romance novels. In those novels, that man didn't reject you. He chose you and kissed you and made sweet love to you and your life was just heaven.

Real life, unfortunately, was a genuine disappointment after such fantasies.

"Hermione," Draco finally continued, letting his words sink in, "I made the stupidest mistake that night. I'm a right arse and I deserve to be castrated. See, I'm even agreeing with Potter," he joked half-heartedly.

She had to crack a smile.

"I was a coward," he said softly. "I wanted to tell you that night how I felt but I couldn't. I couldn't because I thought everyone else mattered. But in the end all that matters is who's involved, and nobody's involved in my affairs except well, me. And you."

"You're bordering on sappy," Hermione reminded him cheekily.

He pulled her up off the couch and grabbed her hand. "I can't believe this witch," he cried, "I tell her what's on my mind and she tells me I'm _sappy_?"

"Only kidding!" she laughed.

"Hermione," he took a deep breath, "I'm here to ask you, well, for a date. It won't be as fancy as a date from the Bachelor…unless you want it to be…and it won't be followed around by the cameras…but I just, I just want to…"

Hermione's betraying heart soared at the chance and cried for her to take it, but there was simply no way that her ego would let her. "I'm sorry, Draco," she sighed, "but I can't. I've moved on and I can't come back."

He looked resolute. "It took a lot of courage for me to come here. I knew I'd made the wrong decision, but I had the strength to correct my mistake. Hermione, I had to swallow my pride and come back to you. Imagine how that felt, crawling back to the girl that I had rejected. It was so humiliating, such a deep bruise on my ego, but…I did it because," he took a deep breath and rushed out with it, "I never thought I'd say it to any girl, but I love you. And so I let go, and I'm here now, and I'm actually _begging_—and this is also a first for me, hideous as it is—for you to forgive me."

He looked disgusted with himself.

Hermione had to stifle a giggle. "You said you loved me."

He blushed, a soft reddish tinge on his pale face. It was adorable.

"Say it again," she demanded.

"Why?" he looked reluctant.

"Because I need to hear it."

"You're a cruel, cruel woman," he scowled, "but if it means you'll forgive me, I will. I, er love you."

She knew he meant it, although he was reluctant to say it. It was just against his nature to admit something to close to his heart. Hermione realized that he had given up a lot to be with her, to rectify that night, and she couldn't just throw it back in her face.

Besides, she really did want to know how it felt like to be carried up the stairs by a roguish young man and thrown on a bed full of rose petals with soft candles lit all around (courtesy of romance novels).

"Okay," she squeezed his hand, "you're on."

And then she promptly experienced her first, proper, off-camera kiss. "Many more where that came from," he grinned snarkily, and Hermione had to resist the urge to hit him.

"I love you, you idiot," she grinned, getting the words off her chest. "And when people ask how we met…"

"We'll just tell them it was an awfully long story," he finished.

And that it was.

-fin-

Final A/N: Okay, the real reasont that Draco didn't pick Hermione in the last chapter: I just had to, had to, had to make fun of the fact that reality show couples don't stay together. And of course, I didn't think that my characters were ready. Nothing like a painful seperation to make you realize things! I'm cruel, I know.

Yes! This chapter was very, very difficult to write and it took me a while. Still, I updated faster than I normally do, right?

This fic is now complete. There will probably not be a sequel, because there really isn't much left to say. I've been asked to do a The Bachelorette, but I'm not going to because I think it will be repetitive.

I'm very sad that this fic has come to an end! All of your reviews were just amazing, and if I could I'd give you all an individual thanks. I never expected such a brilliant response to my fic, and am amazed at the amount of reviews I have gotten. I love you all to bits and pieces!

I hope to see some of you in my other stories, both WIPs, "Rise and Die!" and "The Child's Atrocity". I'm also planning a short Draco/Hermione fic that I'm in the process of writing right now.

Once again, thank you. I appreciate it so much.


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